Out Of My Mind
by AngelOfDeath10
Summary: GaaSaku, AU, Sakura thought she was going for a night out but her night takes a turn for the worse and somehow the last place where she wants to be is exactly where she should have been
1. 1

All written at once. Intended to be a one shot comedy piece. Hope you all enjoy it, even if it is AU. I thought it was kind of fitting, really. Ah, clubbing.

I love oneshots.

Disclaimer: I own not the Naruto!

* * *

The smell of sweat and alcohol was pervasive. Lingering odors of cigarettes furtively smoked in bathrooms as well as outside were carried in by people's clothing. The crush of bodies laughing, yelling, swinging every limb available to the sound of the driving beat made her wish that for once Naruto could find a quiet spot to drag her to. She was sure Hinata at least would be grateful, since she spent most of these weekend outings sitting in the corner and fending off men trying to pick up on her. Sakura wished that she could garner such attention, but it seemed it wasn't to be. She looked and acted too independent, she felt, for men to feel comfortable approaching her.

Predictably, Naruto was not far away from where Hinata had staked out a position at a table, and Sakura easily found his bobbing blond head. He had been sidetracked into talking to some people Sakura couldn't recognize. Why Naruto knew people everywhere, she could never quite grasp, but even if she felt socially isolated at these events she never turned down the chance to join her good friend as he checked out a new club. This one had a distinctive rave quality to it that reminded her of her youth and the particularly outlandish outfits she had worn as a teen to go dance the night away. Excessive amounts of illicit alcohol and fake I.D.s had been a little beyond her comfort zone, even if she had often entertained the notion in her mind, but she had done her share of partying.

"Sakura! There you are! I just ran into Tenten, can you believe it?" Naruto yelled above the noise of the music and people, and Sakura knew that under the garish colored lights no one would see how pale she got at this information.

"Hey, Sakura, how are you doing?" Tenten had more difficulty being heard than Naruto, but Sakura read her lips enough to get the idea of what she had said. The strained look on the older girl's face told Sakura volumes about what else she could expect tonight. With any luck, she could hide away until Naruto was ready to leave and then life wouldn't have to get any more complicated than it already was.

Sakura put on her best smile, being an expert at outwardly projecting an image that did not correlate to her inner emotions. "Just great! Med school is great!" It wouldn't do to use complicated sentiments in this atmosphere. Tenten smiled and nodded, before wiping a bit of sweat from her brow. It was very hot in here and the closest windows were nearly a story up and providing very little breeze even if they did work to ventilate in the late summer heat.

"I think Lee is just finishing getting me my drink. The lines are so long! He wants to see you!" Tenten's words confirmed Sakura's fears and she had to use force of will not to let her eye start twitching.

"_He's_ here?" Naruto looked elated at the news. Naturally, he was always happy to see a friend. He also benefited from not having an awkward relationship with him, unlike Sakura. When she was young she used to fantasize about having some wonderful loyal man who was kind and attentive to her every need. All Lee managed to do for her was shatter that dream by being exactly everything she wanted and yet be absolutely and irrevocably friendzoned the moment she met him. It was a bitter irony, and one which she wished for both their sakes that it wasn't true. However, in the two years since they had met, she had come to terms with this while Lee. . . got more persistent.

The familiar shiny black bob of hair was making its way towards them, and all Sakura could think to do was run. Lee might be faster than she was, but Sakura was canny.

"I need to use the bathroom, maybe get some air. Look, I'll be back in a bit. . ." Sakura smiled as sweetly as she could manage with teeth clenched from stress and made hasty tracks through the crowd again towards the downstairs exit. It took a while to push through, but at least she was assured some time to escape both by the fact that Lee had to bring a drink to Tenten and therefore would be stopped and talked to by Naruto, but also because she had mentioned the magic word 'bathroom' and he wasn't likely to wait outside of it and pounce on her the moment she exited. She wasn't planning on going to the bathroom anyway.

It wasn't that she didn't like the attention, in some ways, that Lee gave her, but his solicitous treatment of her made her feel uncomfortable. Sakura honestly felt like if he knew her, what was in her head, and not the mostly composed and polished girl she had trained herself to be that he wouldn't even want to be her friend anymore. Only Naruto got to see her bad side, but they had been together since childhood. He understood because he had been there for the teasing, the beatings, and every hurdle involving her many problems with men.

Naruto was like family and she wasn't worried about what he thought, but strangers were a different matter and even now Sakura had a hard time meeting or opening up to new people. That's why this tour of clubs seemed like a fun idea when Naruto had first started it at the beginning of the summer. She could meet new people and have some fun before her next term started and she was back to her intensive studying. It wasn't a lie when Sakura said she loved med school, but it was also difficult and terribly stressful.

So here she was, at another anonymous club in a part of the city she had rarely ever visited, with no way home except with Naruto and Hinata who were currently chatting it up with Tenten and Lee. There was always the option of a taxi, but Sakura didn't have that kind of money on her readily, not to mention the fact that the expense wasn't technically needed and she was a poor student as it was.

The clean cut and cheerful noise of the club pulsed behind her to a base beat that cut through the air, and Sakura took a deep breath before examining the stamp that she had gotten upon entering and paying the cover. A grotesquely smiling face, smudged at the edges, made her grimace in imitation. The air was cool by comparison and the sweat on her body was quickly drying. In stilted steps she started off in a direction that probably held a convenience store of some kind. Some bottled water sounded good right about then.

Alas for her, the streets laid out in either direction produced not a convenience store, but other kinds of store fronts, all dark and closed, a coffee shop and more clubs. It seemed that the one that Naruto had taken her to, the new one, was more upscale than the rest. The dingy exteriors had what she would kindly call 'character' but which she wanted to more accurately describe as dirty and scary. The sudden burst of sound when an entrance to one of these dingy clubs opened up didn't shock her nearly as much as the people that emerged. _They must not have jobs that require them to pass through metal detectors_, she thought to herself.

It made her evening that much more entertaining and frustrating when it was these people boasting a dearth of tattoos and piercings who gave her a look as if she were a freak. Automatically, she brought her hand to her forehead. They couldn't have been looking there, but old habits died hard. The rage that poured over her face instinctively at the emotional connections to memory that had never managed to erase themselves caused her to clench her fists at her side, balling up the small chain attached to her purse in her fist and driving the metal chain sharply into her palm.

"You lost?" The low masculine voice came from behind her, and she turned to face it rather than bother with any further trips down into the memory ditch of childhood.

He was short, maybe a little taller than she was and therefore below average height for a male at any rate, and the bright burning end of his cigarette was the first thing she saw. A thin line of smoke eked past his lips, and long pale fingers with black polish coloring the nails removed the cigarette while Sakura found herself unable to do much but stare at the man.

If she had not seen patrons exit earlier, she would have known exactly what kind of club this was judging from the appearance of this man. Black was the overwhelming impression, though he could have been in any dark color and looked the same. He was dressed in a tight shirt, torn creatively, with a layer of mesh exposed beneath it, not well fitted black pants made of a material she could identify in the low light out here but with patches containing various symbols on them, and boots that looked more serviceable than decorative. Making her way back up his body she noted a spiked collar, and then another necklace that dipped down into his shirt. It wasn't the clothes that gave her pause so much as all the makeup on his face, since it was far more than she was wearing. Eyes circled with eyeliner by a heavy hand made the irises in the center seem all the more shockingly green. Messy red hair that might have been spiked a few hours ago topped off the goth image that was coming off of him in waves. Whoever this boy was, he wasn't like anyone she had ever talked to before.

"Are you deaf? I asked if you were lost." Charming. She tried not to let her already awakened anger channel itself towards him.

"Why would you think that?" She asked with a saccharine tone.

He shrugged, bringing the cigarette up to his lips for another drag at it. "I could be wrong. But your type usually keeps their head down and keeps walking past places like this."

"My type?" She was curious, and on the verge of being belligerent.

His eyes swept her, categorizing her by her appearance as she had done to him. Maybe he lingered a little too long on the bare expanse of leg, or her hint of cleavage and exposed shoulders, but Sakura suddenly remembered that Goths didn't usually wear red halter tops or cute swishy blue skirts. She flushed, wanting to prove to this confident and slightly leering young man that she wasn't what he thought she was.

"You don't belong here, that's clear."

She was up to this challenge, even if she wasn't up to the one of facing Lee. "You think so? I think you should give me a chance before you judge me."

He narrowed his eyes and for a moment something flickered behind them that made her nervous, but whatever it was passed and with a sneer he dropped his cigarette and crushed it beneath one solid boot. The smile that spread over his face, all teeth and wide bloodshot eyes, again forced some uncertainty to cloud her righteous self-confidence in proving to this jerk that there was more to her than a surface image, than the perfect Sakura Haruno who she had created to make others react favorably to her. With these people all bets were off, her image actually worked against her, and she'd have to get by on personality if she was going to meet this challenge.

"What's you're name?" The predatory gleam in his eyes, now that she had his full attention, was the most disconcerting thing of all.

"Sakura."

"Just as pink and pretty as your hair." He sneered. A huff that was actually a laugh initiated his movement as he walked past her and towards the entrance of the club. "Do yourself a favor and go back to where you came from."

_I'll pulverize this runt_. She seethed internally. "Coward. You weren't doing anything interesting. What do you have to lose by seeing whether I'm full of shit or not." The words were out before she could filter them. What was she doing? Being rude to a stranger? Inviting trouble just to prove a point to a random cute boy on the street?

This gained her something even more deadly than the glare he had been giving her as he softened the hard line of his lips into a real smile. With a start, she realized how handsome he was, now that he wasn't making himself as unpleasant as possible.

"I'll get you in then, and it's up to you from there. Sink or swim, I don't care. If you haven't bailed out by 1 a.m. I'd be surprised." So those were the terms. Survive until one. That was only an hour and a half, this would be easy.

"No problem. I'll find you at one, then." She took her watch out of her purse and put it on her wrist again.

The boy shook his head, hair stiff with gel not moving at all from the force. "Whatever. I'll probably be gone by then." He walked away from her, but Sakura trailed close behind and persisted in asking him for his name. The bouncer eyed the boy and then Sakura with a raised eyebrow pierced twice through. Once they were in the entranceway, and before he opened the door to blast them back with the din of inside, she put her hand on his arm and asked once more, politely this time, for his name. He gave her a look she couldn't read before answering.

"Gaara." Was all he said before he disappeared into the abyss.

* * *

It wasn't so bad, she told herself for the eleventh time in half an hour, once you got used to the condescending stares and the plethora of scowling pierced faces then it was just like every other night she had been at a club. After all, no one was talking to her, and in fact she commanded a rather impressive bubble of personal space considering how many people were in this small space. The music was no different in a lot of ways, ranging from loud and moody to loud and angry and with a beat strong enough to dance or mosh to depending on your preference. There were people setting up a stage so the music wouldn't only be piped in, it seemed. It had been a little irritating when the bartender laughed at her when she asked for one of her preferred mixed drinks, something foofy and exotic, and she concentrated on the tattoo of a thorny rose on the back of his bald head while he mixed her up a white Russian instead.

"Listen kid," the bartender, having had the better portion of an hour to watch her as she moved around and was ignored by the patrons as if she were a walking toxic waste barrel took pity on her. "Are you waiting for someone? Cause I think you might want to try up the street. . ."

"No, no, I need to show Gaara that it isn't fair to assume you know a person just by what you see on the outside." The alcohol in her system wasn't even giving her a buzz, but she recognized that the sentence didn't really make sense out of any sort of context.

The man laughed, fingering his mustache and pouring her out her third drink of the night. "Gaara, is it? This one's on the house, then." With no further explanation, he left to go take other orders.

While she pondered over her encounter with Gaara again as if to decipher what it was that would make him stand out in this kind of crowd, Sakura suddenly remembered that she had left her companions some time ago and they could very well be worried about her. The small cell phone in her purse couldn't get any reception, and the noise was too great anyway, so abandoning the drink she hadn't paid for and didn't really want she made her way into the bathroom in hopes of getting through to Hinata.

She was out of luck, still, and as she swore and shook the small piece of technology she saw a blond woman smirking at her. "It isn't nice to laugh at other people's troubles."

"I suppose it isn't." For some reason the woman's face seemed familiar, but with the layer of makeup on it could very well have been the general resemblance to any of the other women in the club. "But I was more curious than amused, if that means anything."

"Yes, look at the normie, stare at her bare face and non-torn clothing. Not a bit of black anywhere! Soon the preppies will storm the club and force us all to wear khaki!" The phone continued to insist that there was no such thing as reception. Sakura swore and slammed it shut.

The woman was looking at Sakura as if she were some sort of exhibit in a zoo, though Sakura felt like she was the one with more right to stare considering she wasn't the one in a purple and black banded corset. "So you really did make a deal with Gaara? You called him a coward, right? And even grabbed him?" She seemed slightly in awe of this, though it was muted and Sakura thought she might have been imagining it.

"I guess so. And now I'm stuck here for another forty minutes. Any chance there's a phone I could use inside somewhere?

The woman was laughing at her now, this cute little pink thing who was striking fear into the hearts of a few hundred Goths. "There's one in the office, but you'd have to talk to Kankuro about that."

"And who would that be?"

"My brother. He owns the place. I'm Temari."

Sakura realized that she'd have to start playing a little nicer with this person, the only person to talk to her besides the bartender, if she was going to get what she wanted without being forced to leave the premises of the club.

"Could you please take me to him?"

Temari tapped her lip with a finger as she thought. "Sure, why not. You've got some guts, I'll give you that, and I left my fan up there anyway."

"Thanks."

They walked out of the bathroom, their bubble of space secured by Sakura's continued outcast social state and allowing them a quick path to an unmarked black door. Temari pulled out a key from somewhere within her fantastical outfit and opened it up. They went up a flight of stairs, and the door closed behind them, muting the noises below. A man was talking on a telephone and from behind he seemed to be the first 'normal' person she had encountered in this place, dressed casually, even conservatively with nary even a spot of coloring or glue in his red brown hair. Then he finished his conversation and swiveled around in his chair, and she saw the mass of purple tattoos on his face. . .

"What do you want?" He was brusque, like many of the businessmen she had known, and didn't seem at all shaken by the sight of Sakura no matter how out of place she might be.

"Can she use the phone?" Temari picked up a fan from the desk and unfolded it only to quickly close it shut again with a satisfying snap.

Kankuro eyed Sakura more closely, and his dark eyes lit up but his voice was still gruff. "No."

"This is the girl who Gaara was talking to outside." Temari added, unruffled by her brother's terse refusal.

"Oh, is she now?" He laughed to himself a bit, giving her a speculative look now. "Maybe we can make an exception then. Go ahead."

This was all very suspicious, but Sakura was more concerned with contacting Hinata and she quickly dialed up the number. She left a voice mail telling Naruto and Hinata not to worry and that she would get herself home by cab later. It was easier this way, since it meant she could cut out a return trip to the other club and a possible encounter with Lee. There was one thing off of her mind. Hinata was sure to check her messages, or at least more likely than Naruto.

Kankuro had lost interest in her, typing away on a computer, but Temari was waiting and the two of them made their way back down.

"Is this a lost cause?" Sakura asked the blond woman with a sigh.

"I wouldn't say that. Then again. . ." Temari gestured for Sakura to follow. They wound their way into a dark corner of the club, where an alcove hid a table. Sitting, doing what Sakura could only describe as brooding, was Gaara. He didn't seem to notice when they arrived, and Sakura reached out a hand to touch his shoulder.

Temari started and back away when Gaara made a fast movement, but whatever he was doing stopped when he spotted Sakura. He narrowed his eyes at her and then openly scowled when he saw Temari a short distance behind her.

"Yes? I thought you weren't going to bother me for at least another half an hour, if you were even here at all." Sakura sat down next to him without invitation and even though he was being unpleasant. Temari didn't join them and instead made quick tracks for some other location when Gaara shot her a look behind Sakura's head that Sakura couldn't identify in her peripheral vision. "I see my sister is being annoying as usual."

"I thought she was nice enough." She tried to be charitable, even if her impression of Temari had been mixed.

"You don't know her very well."

Was this boy purposefully this socially inept, or was this all just for her benefit? Sakura sighed, looking out into the writhing masses of people who seemed just like every other mass of people she had been in this summer. Should appearance make that much of a difference? The music over the speakers died down while a band began to set up. They were all in the same kind of black clothing and makeup as the crowd and someone gave a short bark of a cheer from the back. The sudden relative silence made Sakura's ears ring.

"Whatever you're trying to prove to me, yourself, or whatever. . . it's a waste of energy. I want you to leave."

Sakura looked at Gaara, a lopsided smile making her seem smug. "Why do I threaten you so much? I'll admit, I started this off because I was stubborn, but now I'm staying because I want to know what the big deal is with you. Can I find out from you, or do I have to go asking around?" This sort of directness, it was like she was without social filters again. It had gone up again as soon as she had been around other people besides him, even Temari and Kankuro, that glossy social plating that made her seem so perfect. It didn't seem to want to apply to Gaara, however, and Sakura was trying to figure out why.

"You seem like a smart sort of busybody, I'm surprised you didn't get the story out of someone yet."

His unflattering compliment didn't deter her. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm the new club pariah. That is, unless you hold the monopoly on that, because I see you're just as alone as I was."

Gaara blinked at her, his lips twitching at the corner a little bit before he took a deep breath and spoke in a voice so devoid of emotion that it actually frightened her. "I have a bit of an anger management problem." He flipped a switchblade out of his pocket, opening it up and shining the edge up to the dim lights. "And I rather like the sight of blood. . ."

Fabulous, she was sitting next to an asocial psychotic who was just as likely to stab her as to talk to her. Remembering Temari's caution and other people's jocular reactions to her antagonistic relations with this apparently infamous man, Sakura figured she was balanced on a wire in this. The sudden realization of how much danger she might be in gave her pause.

"But don't worry," he continued, his eyes leaving the gleaming knife and meeting her own similar shade of green. "You're as safe as anyone can get around me."

"How do you figure that?" She tried to keep her voice light, almost carefree, even if she was sure he was as deadly serious as that knife that was still clutched in his hand.

Gaara gave her another one of those toothy grins she wasn't used to enough yet to keep a shiver from running down her spine. "I haven't stabbed you yet, have I? If it was going to happen, it would have long before this."

* * *

Two more white Russians later, Sakura didn't feel at all threatened by Gaara. In fact, as she sat at the table with him and listened to the band, she started to feel downright companionable towards him. People danced, Sakura talked, and Gaara listened. All was right with the world, even if it was a world that was spinning a bit from Sakura's perspective.

". . . and so I wandered off to get some water and ended up, uhhh, here. Yeah." Sakura was drinking water now, having been reminded by the water of earlier in the evening of course she spilled out the story. Gaara listened, she assumed, with neither interest nor disinterest. He just was.

Gaara looked at her, as she picked her head up off the table and took another drink of water.

"I feel like an idiot. I should just tell him I have a boyfriend or something. Then I wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. Say, you want to be my boyfriend?" She laughed at herself, at her folly, and at her continued refusal to clearly define her relationship with Lee and therefore bring both of them pain.

For the first time in a while, Gaara actually answered her rambling, proving that he had kept at least half an ear open to when she was speaking. "It's 1:30."

"Is it?"

"You could have left half an hour ago."

"I suppose I could have."

Sakura finally realized what he might be awkwardly hinting at. "You want to know why I stayed, I guess." It had taken a while, but she had figured it out not too long ago. The was the distinct possibility that it was still drunken rambling, but she knew that she was by far on the sober side and so plunged ahead. "I think, it's because you remind me of me."

The way he reacted, quickly covered shock, gave her all the reason she needed to elaborate.

"See, when I was a kid I spent most of my time alone. Oh man it made me sad. And then kids started making fun of me because of my forehead, and I just frikkin snapped one day in middle school. Beat some boy unconscious." Gaara looked at her as if he didn't quite believe her.

"It's true!" She insisted. "I know all you people think you're so misunderstood, and you want to stand out as much as possible, but can't you understand that everyone feels like that? I couldn't handle it. I may be dressed like this. . ." She pulled at her halter top a little and Gaara's eyes immediately went down to her chest and then back up to her face with slight color spreading across his pale cheeks. ". . . but that doesn't define me. I'm not a porcelain princess. I think terrible things, I'm violent, I'm selfish, and that's all part of me too."

"And how does this make you like me?" Gaara had his full attention on her, those intense eyes of his eating her up.

Sakura swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry and her mind all too clear. "You're just wearing the other side of it. Everyone's so scared of you. . . your flaws are all on the surface for everyone to see." She tried to laugh and dispel some of the intimacy that was suffocating her in this alcove with Gaara. "We're not very complete people, are we?"

"That could change." She thought she heard him say.

The kiss was sudden. His hands were wrapped around her head and holding her against him forcibly. It was inconceivable that someone so frail looking could be that strong. He tasted like cigarettes and she probably tasted like booze, but after the initial shock she found herself leaning in and responding to this kiss. They broke apart and Sakura gulped in air, completely at a loss, while Gaara studied her reflectively.

"You're the first person in years who has touched me without making me want to lash out. I don't know where you came from, but you're here with me now. I wish I'd never met you. You're going to make everything complicated." The wonder in his voice coupled with the lust lighting fires in his green eyes made Sakura want to back away from him, to run as far and as fast as she could.

"I was joking when I said you should be my boyfriend." She felt panic rise in her chest. _Way to get lost and pick up a psycho on your first try. I think a car wreck would be the best way to end this lovely evening._ Her inner voice didn't help her insecurities.

"I know." Really, he was so handsome when he actually smiled. She saw it coming this time, but found that not only was she unable to stop it but she actually leaned in to meet Gaara halfway in the kiss. She had always had a weak spot for bad boys, and Gaara seemed to be as bad as she was going to find.

This might have been the start of something wonderful, or it could have been the biggest mistake of her life, but at the moment, with his lips sliding over her provocatively, she couldn't care the slightest about which it might be. They broke away from one another for air again.

"Do you really think my hair is pretty?"

"Yes. Do you care that I wear more makeup than you?"

"Not in the least."

They came together and broke apart again, chests heaving, and Sakura realized that somehow he had moved his hand up under her shirt. Sneaky bastard, but oh he was a skilled sneaky bastard.

"I'm jealous and easily angered." She warned him.

"So am I."

A quick kiss prompted ended in a groan from Gaara as Sakura pulled away.

"Do you promise not to stab any of my friends?"

"I won't hurt them so long as they don't deserve it."

She looked at him, wondering if it was a joke or not. He removed his hand from under her top and ran it instead through her hair.

"Hell. . . fine. . . no stabbing."

Whatever this was that had started tonight, it was going to be a fun ride.


	2. 2

So. . . I had 7 pages written when I did the damn fool thing of accidentally, er, deleting it. This is version number two! Oh goody! I feel incredibly stupid for deleting all that stuff, I can't even begin to explain.

I decided I'm going to try to approach these like I did a project a while ago, with vignettes rather than an actual story with plot. I had no plot worked out, so this seems like a fun idea to experiment with again. See where it takes me. Target number of words for each scene will be 1-3,000 so don't expect huge updates in this weird little piece.

Tell me what you think. I'm listening. (That sounds ominous, doesn't it? Feh.) Eventually I may actually end up with an accurate enough portrayal of how I feel Sakura and Gaara should act and then I won't feel so insecure about writing about them. A girl can hope. As of now, they elude me.

Disclaimer: (See part 1)

* * *

"They're staring at you."

"No, you're staring at me. They are all clearly staring at you, and I just happen to be next to you." Sakura didn't feel like confronting this issue with him because it was pretty darn clear that she was not the one in bondage pants and a loose hanging straight jacket. He had more straps flinging around him than a person preparing to sky dive. If anyone was going to garner attention from the people walking by, it would him. Again, his perceptions seemed to be screwed up.

Gaara made a noncommittal but clearly unconvinced grunt.

This was all Naruto's fault, Gaara's sudden possessive focus, because before there was the simple confidence that she was his. It had been an aggravating bit of ego, but she figured it was born of insecurity, and she would give him some time to realize she wasn't planning on running off and that he didn't need to worry.

It had been too soon for them to encounter one another, Gaara and Naruto, and although it could have gone worse she had honestly thought that it might have had a chance to go well. Maybe her estimation of Gaara's tolerance for people was a little too high. Just because he wanted to see her didn't mean he was ready for more company than that. Particularly loud, nosy, blond company.

"Well, _he_ was staring at you." Gaara's eyes flicked to the side and Sakura swiveled her head to catch a young man quickly averting his eyes.

"I'm not having this conversation with you. Yes, sometimes men will look at me. Don't you look at pretty women when they pass by?" As soon as the question was out, she realized she didn't want him to answer it. Her inner demon burned with curiosity and prepared the anger that would follow the inevitable answer.

Gaara didn't respond with any words at all. A fluttering feeling at her waist and then again at her fingers told her that Gaara had moved closer so that his arm was brushing against her. In fact, he might have been trying to put a hand on her waist. The strange nature of their physicality, hesitant and aggressive in turns, still made her head spin. It was like Gaara had all these unspoken rules he had set up for interaction in his head but they didn't quite work around her anymore. She wanted to be compassionate about his indecision, but not being able to even hold his hand for a prolonged period of time was oddly annoying to her.

Firmly, she grasped the fingers near her hand and immediately his cold palm became clammy. Soon, he was going to jerk away, she knew, but at least she had taken his mind off of other people's supposed interest in her. It amazed her that he could be that cold, as always, but she had a feeling that it was her fault these days for dragging him into well lit crowds of "normal" people. She wasn't brave enough yet to walk back into his brother's club, and Gaara was tolerating this assault on his comfort zones with varying degrees of threatening behavior to those around them.

However, he had not taken any of his anxiety out on her yet. Sakura tried to remind herself of that as he jerked forward and out of the loose confines of her hand. He'd do something to cover up his action in a moment. Sakura knew the pattern, after a couple weeks of this.

Sure enough a cigarette materialized in his hand. He was smoking more, it seemed to her, since a week ago. It was probably to cope with the stress she was putting him through. Gaara was walking a thin line with this social business.

"Smoking isn't good for you." She had to do her part, as her chosen profession didn't exactly smile on that lifestyle choice.

"Neither is nagging." He was cranky. But she didn't need to take this. Sakura wasn't the one who had been getting in people's faces left and right tonight.

"I'm not kissing you if you taste like an ashtray." Gaara looked into her eyes and Sakura forced herself not to be intimidated by the glint in his eyes. Most of the time she thought she was safe, but tonight . . . "I mean it."

His eye twitched and then Gaara blew out the puff of smoke he had taken in. Gaara held up his hand only to put the cigarette out on the flesh at the heel of his palm to her horror. "Happy now?"

"What are you trying to prove to me?" It felt like they were one step away from making a scene. People were walking by trying to not to stare as it was. She tried to grab at his burned hand, but he evaded her efforts. "Stop that!"

"Don't make a big fuss over nothing." He breezed ahead of her, cool as could be again.

Her heeled sandals clattered against the pavement as she jogged a bit to keep up with him. Both of them were fuming now, and people just exiting restaurants in this district were giving the two of them a wide berth. She thought she had caught up to him when he reached a crosswalk, but he didn't even pause and walked out into the street. A car started to go, bumped to a stop, honked, and then she had the rare pleasure of seeing the driver yell something at Gaara's skulking form. It was a good thing Gaara wasn't listening to anything at the moment, or else that poor man would have been in a sticky situation involving Gaara and a bladed object before he could even get out the words 'assault and battery.'

Sakura waited, tapping her foot, as traffic flowed past and then began to run as soon as she could safely cross. He was three blocks away but seemed to be slowing, because she was catching up to him. The district turned residential fairly quickly and the traffic lessened to a dull roar in the background. Streetlights illuminated his white coat when he passed though, and she finally caught him in a pool of orange light, her breath slightly panting from the jog.

"Just leave me alone." Gaara growled, but he had also stopped moving when she had grabbed onto one of his many handy straps. The metal link that held the strap onto his pants clinked as he turned to look at her, his eyes narrowed, black pits in the shadows.

"I'm not going to do that. I'm nothing else if persistent. You should get used to that."

"It seems like I have to get used to a lot of things." He made no move toward or away. "Are all your friends like that? Is every outing going to be an interrogation?"

They were getting to the meat of the matter. "Look, Naruto didn't know what he was saying. You were both angry. . ."

"That doesn't matter. Let me go."

Sakura shook her head, feeling how her nicely pinned up hair was now flopping a little. The fates could have at least been kind enough to let her look pretty when she needed to get him as close to happy as she could again. "No. No disappearing when you feel uncomfortable. That's too convenient."

"See? He's right." She was really confused, but then Gaara continued and Sakura felt her face relax in understanding. "This isn't going to work. Go back to your friends and leave me alone."

"So just because my friends don't accept you. . . _yet_, I might add. . . you think I'm going to leave you?" That made her mad. "You're a jerk as well as an idiot."

He grabbed her wrist, and she refused to allow him to threaten her into dropping the strap. Gaara's hand was still clammy and he was shaking, but he wasn't hurting her in any way. "I'm not stupid, Sakura, I know what I am. Your friends see it. Why don't you? It's only a matter of time before they convince you."

Sakura held back the slap she wanted to give him. On the one hand it would be really satisfying, and a dramatic way to make her point about how he should come to his senses. On the other hand, initiating violence with him when he was like this could only end in tragedy. She had handled lots of dangerous substances before, in labs, and she just needed to treat him like another unstable substance. Go slow, don't lose your temper if it isn't reacting properly, and make sure you get the results you need before you put it away for the day.

"Do you want me?"

"What?" It was startled incredulity. That was better than anger.

"You aren't dating my friends, you're dating me. And I thought we were doing pretty well. Was I wrong?"

He looked past her, his eyes still hidden, and shook his head. She moved forward, gently twisting her wrist out of his hand, and brushed the hair back from the tattoo on his forehead.

"Then I don't see a problem. Leave my friends to me. You worry about this." She drew his arms around her body securely. "Think of it this way, I'm sure your friends will think I'm just as freakish."

That actually brought a smile to his face. "Not likely."

A smile was good. That was getting somewhere. "But you have to admit, when Naruto asked you if your intentions were honorable, 'not really' was not the answer he was expecting."

Gaara snorted. "It wasn't any of his business what my intentions are or were." His arms tightened around her and she smelled the faint cigarette smoke and musty jacket odor. She looked down at it and saw some of the stains on the sleeve. A part of Sakura balked at the sight of the stains but she knew that pulling away and ruining this rare peaceful moment would be a bad idea.

"You didn't get this jacket at a real mental institution, did you?"

He tensed. "And if I did?"

"Then we're getting it dry cleaned tomorrow." So much of him was closed off, an unknown quantity, but Sakura had always had a burning need to know more than was good for her. The tension eased out of him, and he melted onto her. He sagged for just a second, almost in the limp posture of total relief, but Gaara never found repose for long and Sakura felt his warm body leave all too soon.

"You should have run when you had the chance." Gaara said as they began to walk back, hands occasionally brushing like before. She wasn't going to make him hold her hand like before, at least not tonight.

"I did run."

"I meant in the other direction." He rolled his eyes and stuffed one of his hands into his pocket, fiddling with his knife she didn't doubt. A nervous habit of his she's noticed.

"I knew what you meant."

There was silence until they got back to where all the people were walking about on this summer evening. The stares Gaara garnered didn't seem to bother him now, since people watching him with wary faces seemed to be something he had long ago grown accustomed to. Coffee shops, restaurants, and the odd clothing place or two were still open and Sakura looked in windows and wondered what it would have been like to have a 'normal' relationship.

_Boring_. Her brain piped up.

Well, with Gaara around things were certainly interesting. A man bumped Gaara's arm on the way past and Sakura watched the hapless passerby apologize for a full minute before she pulled away Gaara out of his concentrated unblinking stare that had the young man stuttering. Sakura tried to stifle her giggle, but didn't manage it.

"What's so funny?" Gaara didn't seem to have a sense of humor she could detect, which only made moments like this even funnier. But the fact that he was back to his stale monotone meant that he was diffused for the night, at least. She stopped them, looked up at the sign next to them, and shook her head.

"Nothing. I'll tell you later. Let's get a cup of coffee and I'll examine that hand of yours." Sakura gave Gaara a quick kiss on the cheek. He shrugged and followed her in, running his fingers over where her lips had made contact absently.


	3. 3

I lurve Gaara and Sakura! Luuuuurve!

I don't think I fangirled enough right there. :watches little hearts float out from her as she thinks about Gaara and Sakura: Hm. Maybe I did.

Here's another little vignette. Have the fun. It went in weird directions, but then again, there's no plot. I can't be in control all the time. :shruuuug:

Disclaimer: (See part 1)

* * *

Gaara was worried. It wasn't like him to worry, and no one really noticed this change in mood except for perhaps the people who were unlucky enough to see him on a regular basis. In their case all they perceived was that Gaara had gotten meaner for some reason. He was the type to fall in and out of moods, so people gave him a wide berth and thought nothing more about it. It was his job to be mean; after all, he was a bouncer. 

People had laughed at him at first, when he had worked the club circuit. Other than a unique fashion sense and an arresting pair of eyes, he didn't hold much promise. He was aware that he looked scrawny, short, maybe even weak to an outsider. What people came to know and respect about him was that even though he looked too small to be dangerous, everything about him was sharp as the knives he carried. Gaara burned with some inner madness people didn't understand, and he himself was often confused as to his own motives for certain things, but Gaara was more inclined to look forward and take action rather than worry about what had brought him to yet another back alley with blood on his hands and an insane smile lighting his face.

Once people understood that he was as deadly a weapon as any big bruiser, he began to get more jobs thrown at him than he could handle. Naturally, he took them all, since he had nothing else to occupy his mind and the potential for legitimate violence was an attractive lure to someone of his temperament. Between the coffee, the alcohol, and the cigarettes, he was buzzing from one drug or another most of the time. Not that any of those things ever pacified him. He knew he was a weapon, and paid well to be one, a last resort for those people who couldn't be dealt with in an ordinary fashion. The kind of places that Gaara tended to be hired at weren't for the weak of heart.

Of course, now that he had a girlfriend, somehow everything was subtly different. He was slower to pull his knife on this thug or that one that broke into a fight in the pit at a thrash metal concert. He found that he was smoking less because she didn't like it and she was more likely to kiss him when he got off of work. Sometimes, not very often, but enough to make people nervous. . . he would suddenly smile for no reason. In the past, Gaara's smile had prefaced a spree of violence that rarely confined itself to just those that had initiated it. Gaara was still doing his job, and he did it well, but he had lost that berserker edge. Only he would have said this, because to everyone else he was as cruelly brutal as he had ever been, maybe more so to compensate for what he saw as his growing weakness.

That, his changing attitudes, were not what had Gaara worried. Last night before he had left for work, he had been with Sakura at her apartment. The school year had started for her, and she was bogged down with work most of the time. The weekends were the most time she had for herself and she wanted to see him, but the weekends were the times that he was most in demand for security work. Just back from class, dressed conservatively, with her hair straggling loose about her face, she had absorbed that information with a look that Gaara considered to be almost mischievous.

"And I suppose you'll be sleeping all day." Gaara shrugged at the question that was more statement. He didn't know when he slept, just that it happened irregularly and he usually awoke in a bad mood. Sleep had never offered him solace.

She had run her fingers through her hair as if to comb out some of the tangles, and he suddenly wanted to touch it too, very badly. Gaara made himself step back from his desires, always feeling like he didn't deserve them, deserve _her_.

"If you can't get time off then I don't see what prevents me from coming to see you. You're working at clubs after all, and I could use some time to relax after this first couple of weeks. My mind feels a bit like it had a steamroller go over it a few times." A fiery determination burned in her as she clenched one small fist. "But I know I'll do it. It's just the start of things."

It was a good thing she had pursued their relationship with the same sort of decisiveness, since Gaara felt lost in it most of the time. He was waiting for the day he got dumped, for the day she realized he was a bona fide psychotic and no prescription medication had ever stopped him from the delicious rush of putting a knife in someone. The worst part was being aware of his own sickness, and hating it. Gaara had been born in the wrong era, or the wrong part of the world. The need for born killers had passed in the civilized world. He had something like that once to Sakura, and she had corrected him, telling him he was a warrior, not a killer.

How he hoped she was right, for both their sakes. Warriors fought for a purpose, she had said, and they often abided by a code of honor of some kind. She had lots of romantic ideas. Gaara thought them quaint, but her faith in him was intoxicating.

That evening, he awoke from disturbing dream in black, white and red so that he could put on his distinctive eye makeup. It had been part of his image for so long, that it seemed like a stranger in the mirror above his bathroom sink until he had it on again. The tired bags under his eyes disappeared with it on, the bruise-like markings from lack of sleep and more stress than was good for a person. His eyes were red as usual from poor sleep. Gaara's skin seemed event more pasty and white with it on, and his tight frown turned down the edges of his mouth.

From the floor of his room he found some camouflage pants and a black tank top. A long black coat with a high collar was a quick addition as he walked out the door to his job, some place that had redecorated and was putting on a big opening concert. It had been a job that he had gotten through Kankuro, who fielded most of his calls anyway. Gaara didn't answer his phone, didn't see the point in having one. The only people who would even want to contact him were his brother, sister, and Sakura. Honestly, only Sakura, but he included his brother and sister in there almost as a nod to his beloved pink haired girlfriend because she seemed to set so much stock in personal relationships. Gaara's frown deepened as he noted another way in which he was changing because of her.

A flick of his wrist later, and the collar was up and shielding part of his face from view. If only she weren't so damned smart, then hiding from Sakura wouldn't be almost impossible. Belatedly, he realized his clothing choices were attempting to do that: hide. Gaara had never seen the need to make himself less noticeable, but he wished she wouldn't find him and then go home quickly. He only worked in shady clubs, with shady patrons, and it was no place he wanted her. Although, what he wanted for her to do and what she would do anyway tended to not correlate.

There was a new guy working the door tonight, one who probably must be new to town because he didn't automatically defer to Gaara upon meeting him. Normally this would have ended with some swift and non-lethal violence and Gaara would be king of the heap again, but territorial issues were the last thing on his mind as he entered the club and scanned the crowd. Naturally she wouldn't be here yet, far too early, but the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach was making him nauseated. He didn't remember grabbing anything to eat before he left, and as things stood he didn't want to chance being drunk just in case she got in trouble and he had to step in. Cigarettes, his most common defense, were barred for more intimate personal reasons. That left coffee as the last drug on his list, and he saw after a quick sweep of the crowd that he had plenty of time to get some swill at the gas station down the street.

By the time people started packing in and the music started making the tables quiver, Gaara knew that this must be what people on speed felt like. His stomach felt grossly acidic from the bad coffee, but his mind buzzed as everything became too real and too slow. Buzzing on caffeine, he processed the world around him with wild unblinking eyes. Those who knew him gave him more room to move that usual, but he didn't seem to be reacting to any of the jostles or the insults that invariably were directed at him in big crowds like this while he moved with rude authority through the crowd.

Then, a blaze of recognition floored him and he did a double take. There was Sakura, but looking unlike _his _Sakura. This Sakura was a vision in red velvet and black vinyl. It was like and yet unlike her other dancing outfits, with a corset instead of a halter top, long black gloves up to her elbows, and a small shiny vinyl skirt that hugged her curves tighter than he thought his hands had ever dared. Black eyeliner, rather like his own, ringed her eyes and those lips of hers pouted with glossy red. It didn't go well with her pink hair, all that red over her, but somehow that didn't seem to matter. What mattered was that she was here. . .

. . . and he didn't want her to be.

It was the decision of mere seconds to go up to her and tell her exactly why she needed to get out, but in even that space of time she managed to garner the attention of a tall man, handsome, with long dark hair and pale eyes who said something to her with a smirk on his face. Gaara vaguely recognized the man, but didn't even bother to look over as he roughly shoved him with his shoulder so that he could get in front of Sakura.

In the back of his mind, he noted that she was much taller than he was now. She smirked down at him when his gaze fell to the floor where her feet were encased in stiletto platform heels. It was a long way up her gorgeous legs back up to her eyes, but Gaara made himself focus back on the task at hand.

Oh yes, but first. . .

"Get lost." He turned to the man with the pale eyes, who gave Gaara a considering look and then backed off with a silent salute in Sakura's direction. She seemed amused and anticipatory when he whipped his head back around. "Go home."

The corners of her mouth turned down sharply, well outlined in that apple skin red. Tempting, forbidden. At least it was forbidden here and now. "After going to all this trouble, that is not going to be enough to get me to leave, and you know it. Now stop being angry that I got hit on."

"It doesn't matter how you're dressed, I would have told you the same thing no matter how you looked. You aren't safe here."

"Aren't I safe when you're around?" She cocked her head to the side and took a deep breath to sigh. He breasts strained in the corset and Gaara clenched his fists at his sides. Sakura was too smart, and too desirable right now for him to be able to reason with her.

"Yes, you're safe, but I can't watch you all the time."

"However did I get along before I had you?" This time her tone was less flirty and more sarcastic.

Gaara felt how he was losing this battle, and the old anger rose in him, the need to lash out. It might have gone much worse for him with her if that same cocky security guy hadn't chosen that moment to assert his superiority. If it had been a lame attempt to attract Sakura's attention it would have been futile anyway, but with Gaara involved it was downright dangerous.

"Stop trying to pick up women on the clock and get your ass to the door, man." The hand that landed on his shoulder only remained there long enough for Gaara to look over at it. He was high on caffeine, anger, and lust, a potent cocktail, and when he moved like lightening to pin the man's arm behind his back he nearly broke the bone.

Sakura watched, her mouth in a silent shocked 'o' while the larger man begged to be let go before Gaara did permanent damage. Under the gaze of those pale emerald orbs of hers Gaara found the will to release the man, and he pulled Sakura with him by her hand to the door.

"_Please_. I can't do my job when you're here. You _distract_ me." They were desperate words, but she sensed their honesty and something about that seemed to thrill her even as her eyes still searched him for any signs of that aggression she had just seen with great concern.

"I distract you, do I?" She smiled, her mouth looking wide and inviting even under the harsh street lamps. "Well, I wouldn't want you to lose your job. Come see me when you finish, I'll wait for you. It will probably take me that long to get out of this damn skirt." She grimaced. "You know, I thought it would be fun to surprise you, but this really upsets you. . ."

Thank everything under the sun she finally understood. Though, even Gaara wasn't sure he understood entirely why he was so worried. Answers weren't what concerned him, what concerned him was the fact that she was lingering here in front of the club as if she needed some reassurance. After his little display of temper inside, maybe she did need a sign of faith from _him_. Gaara didn't know what to offer her, so instead he took what he wanted so very badly and hoped for the best. Everything in him was drawn tight with tension, and this promised a small measure of relief.

It was strange, to say the least, to have to pull her shoulders down so he could reach her lips. The kiss was a crush of lips, his arms pressing her against his chest harshly, and when he pulled away from her she had a smear of lipstick down her lip that made it seem as if she were bleeding. He rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth, and it came away red.

"Very distracting." He reiterated, returning to her lips for a longer, steadier drink.

She was breathless and embarrassed when they separated, after having done this on a public street in front of who knows how many people waiting in a line to get in the club. "We'll discuss it later after. . . well, after." Always with the words. She would probably have a lot of very choice words to offer him after she got out of whatever daze she was in, but that would wait for later this evening.

"Just let me ask one thing. . . is this better or worse than usual?"

"I don't want you for your clothes, Sakura."

"Ah." She grimaced a bit as she walked away from him, and he watched her hips move as if she were a snake charmer putting him into a trance. "Then I'm returning these damnable shoes tomorrow first thing. Oof."

That was his Sakura. Suddenly all of those little changes he had been noting in himself faded beyond his concern. She was changing too, or trying to for him, but she was still essentially herself. There was nothing to worry about.

"7 bucks," he snarled at the man waiting impatiently at the head of the line. The manic mood shift made the man take a step back before depositing the money in Gaara's hand. He had four more long hours of his shift to go before he got back to Sakura's apartment for a lecture. . . and whatever came before that lecture.

The smile that he gave upon thinking that made the man step back even further.


	4. 4

Sorry for the lack of update for so long. I sort of moved to another country where I don't speak the language and negotiating internet became something that was a massive undertaking. But now that it is done maybe there will be more/faster updates. And then my pigs shall fly I tell you!

I jest. Truly, since these scenes are short and disjointed by design I'll try to put them out more often. Big love you guys. You've really embraced this fic that I started out doing half jokingly. It's your happy support that leads me to continue it. Reviewers/readers rock!

Disclaimer: (see part 1)

* * *

Most of the time Sakura had a pretty good idea what was bugging Gaara. It was easy to assume was agitated, since there was always something. She had put it all under the general category of "life", but now and again it seemed to be even more exacting than his catch all malaise. When she walked in to find him sitting in her apartment poking the tip of one of his favorite knives into her pastel couch cushion she figured that something out of the ordinary was bothering him. He usually stuck to destroying his own things when he was in a bad mood. Still, she didn't really want to have the couch reupholstered so this had to stop.

"Gaara," She tried to keep her voice light as she moved towards the kitchen with her grocery bags rustling. "I wasn't expecting you today." _Mustn't get angry. Mustn't lash out. Must save couch. . ._

"Huh." It wasn't any real sort of response, simply him acknowledging that she had entered the room. The tip of his knife sunk in a little deeper and Sakura almost burst a yogurt container in her fist while watching him.

She poured out some apple juice from a freshly opened carton and glided over, glasses in hand, to try to give him something else to do that didn't involve turning her pretty and moderately expensive couch into an oversized pincushion. "I had a pretty easy day today, now that my test is over. And the lab was. . . _STOP THAT_!" Sakura had reached her limit, she caught his hand on a downward swing and he gave her a particularly murderous look.

"I don't expect you to tell me what's wrong, but I'm not going to continue sitting here while you—"

"My father is coming."

Some part of her had known he had had parents. After all, he had a brother and a sister, so these mythical parental units had wanted kids enough to raise several of them. Somehow, though, while she could picture Temari and Kankuro being children Gaara alone refused to become one. It's as if he had sprung fully formed from out of the womb, surly and violent with more eye makeup on than Tammy Faye Baker.

"Just your father? What about your mother?"

"She's dead."

Sakura's throat seemed to try to close up on her. He was talking at the moment so she found herself capitalizing on the opportunity. Any moment he would close up like a clam again and she would be stuck with cooking dinner in dead silence. "I'm sorry, when did she. . ."

"When I was born." The knife descended into the cushion again with more force. She might be able to fix that one with her sewing kit once he'd gone. It was as if he'd gotten used to anticipating her questions because she didn't even have to prompt him for more. "He's coming tomorrow to have dinner. I already called in to work to tell them I'm not going to be there."

"If it's just dinner then I'm sure you can get through it without too much trouble."

Gaara turned the full force of his stare upon her and Sakura tried not to flinch. There was such intensity to him at the best of times that sometimes he unnerved her. Right now was much worse.

"I want you to be there too."

Her nearly empty glass missed the coaster and hit the wood coffee table with a thunk as she processed Gaara's commanding question. "Oh." Was all she came up with at first.

There were many conflicting thoughts inside of Sakura concerning this, and most of them were not very flattering to Gaara. She hoped that he wanted her there for moral support, to bolster his confidence for whatever reason, because she would be glad to do that for him. However, if she was simply a thing on display then that was another matter. It seemed like Gaara and his father had not been on good terms in the past, to say the least, judging from his reaction now. It was possible that she was something he could use as a trophy for his new life. She didn't know enough about any of this, so it was better to put her trust in him rather than not.

"Ok. I can do that. Where are we going?"

Gaara looked relieved, something that only Sakura might have noticed due to the shift of his body language being so subtle. That and the knife was finally concealed again in the folds of one of his many zippered pockets. He stood up, as if she had taken a huge weight off of him and marched right over to the door. Sakura frowned; she had hoped he would stay for dinner at least since she had just bought all that food. Emotional crisis aside, they really didn't get much alone time these days what with her midterms coming up.

"We're going to the Excelsior. I'll pick you up at seven." The door slammed behind him as Sakura felt her eyes cross. That was not any old place to eat; that was a formal dress only sort of establishment. That was somewhere that would probably have at least four different pieces of silverware on each side of the plate, each set more expensive than all of Sakura's flatware put together. The idea that she was part of some sort of attempt to prove that life for Gaara and his siblings was better than their father had provided was drilled into her head again. Desperately, she pushed it back.

Maybe she was just thinking the worst of all this. Maybe they wanted to show that they were doing well. Maybe this visit from their father was a positive thing. To assume makes an "ass" of "u" and "me", or so they say.

A tuft of white stuffing from the middle couch cushion caught her eye and made her cough and change the subject of her attention to finishing unloading her groceries into their cupboards.

* * *

It had taken hours of preparation, a Saturday wasted when she could have been out doing something fun with Naruto and Hinata, or maybe shopping with Ino or Tenten, but she felt that it would no doubt be worth the effort. Her body, scrubbed all over with stuff that seemed as harsh as a brillo pad but guaranteed to exfoliate every inch of her skin made her tingle still. There were face masks that had happened after that, at least three different types of moisturizer that specialized in specific parts of the body, and some sort of wrap that was supposed to keep her face oil free for at least twelve hours. That was in addition to shaving (no time for waxing unless she wanted red legs). Then she had picked out her best dress, pale pink and navy blue, and some strappy shoes that were too cold for mid October but would have to do. Lapis lazuli choker and earrings plus a large rose quartz ring and she finally felt liked she was prepared for the evening.

"He had better be grateful. . ." She mumbled to herself not for the first time this evening. She hadn't gotten this dressed up since her senior prom. There was no way she would forget that night. After all, Naruto had thrown up that spiked punch down her side and she had helped him lurch home while he apologized and vaguely hit on her while calling her Sara. It had only bothered her a little in retrospect even though she was sure at the time that her dreams had been crushed. Being the princess of the ball had always been one of those fond wishes. . .

The knock at the door found her with her head in the clouds and a tube of lipstick poised near her chin. She clicked into action, applied the glossy substance with a practiced motion, blotted, and hurried to open the door. Gaara's frozen look of shock was all the compliment she could expect from him, she supposed, but it was a pretty nice one. The way his eyes narrowed and his mouth curled up as he reached for her told her what he had in mind, but she wasn't about to let him get her mussed up.

"No! Maybe if you behave yourself later, but right now I'm ready for dinner. . . and nothing else. Got it?" She waggled one painted nail at him and he relented with a dissatisfied grunt.

On her part all she could do was stare at him. If she had thought this all important dinner with his family would finally reveal to her, under good lighting, what his face looked like without makeup she was sorely disappointed. Raccoon eyes more bloodshot than normal told her how well he had slept the night before. If it was possible, they looked like he had added another layer of black, as if for protection. The outfit was pretty tame, for him, with combat boots under plain black pants. Ragged black dress shirt with the sleeves torn into long strips, black vest, red tie. . . it was probably the fanciest thing he would bother to get into. Someday she would see him in a real suit, she swore to herself. Why would he complain? She had seen him wear more uncomfortable and complicated things on almost a daily basis.

"Shall we?"

Gaara made a noise in the back of his throat, seemingly unwilling to step back outside and climb into his car. Nondescript grey with tinted windows so dark they were a hairsbreadth away from being illegal, even his car had black on its eyes. Sakura suppressed a nervous impulse to giggle. Her thought hadn't been funny, she was simply starting to feel the pressure that Gaara was exuding in waves in addition to a natural nervousness over meeting Gaara's father. She was meeting his parent. This was a big step for any normal couple. She still hadn't been able to tell her own rather typical and slightly conservative parents anything besides "I'm seeing someone, and he's very unique. Artistic, I guess you could say. Very visual." They were going to get the shock of their lives when she finally had them meet her significant other.

At the stoplight she noticed that Gaara was visibly twitching. This boded very ill.

A valet took their car in front of the restaurant building, and after a brief exchange with the host, they were seated in a part of the ground floor by a rather fetching rock fountain. Everything was done in muted dark colors and the strains of something classical and vaguely familiar found their way over. Sakura couldn't tell if it came from speakers or live musicians, and in a place like this she wouldn't hazard a guess. Gaara's siblings were already sitting at the table. Kankuro, sans face paint, and looking like every other businessman she had ever seen in his navy suit was checking messages on his cell phone. Temari was at least three fourths of the way into a rather exotically colored cocktail. She tapped lacquered nails onto the table impatiently and barely gave Gaara and Sakura a nod when they sat down.

"Where is he?" Gaara asked, as if accusing her of hiding their father somewhere.

"Obviously, when he told us to be here by 7:00 he really meant that he wanted us to wait for him until 7:30. Since you had the grace to show up fifteen minutes late, he's on the ball as usual." Temari raised an eyebrow as she noticed Sakura finally, a pale but pretty shadow next to Gaara. "If it isn't the preppy girl. . . I didn't know you were still. . ." A look from Gaara cut her off.

Kankuro swore and tugged at the tie around his neck. "He had to choose a weekend night, didn't he? As if he didn't know this is the busy time of the week for the club."

"He likes showing us he still has power to make us all drop whatever we're doing." Temari made a gesture in the air and a waiter almost seemed to materialize in front of them. She ordered another drink, as did Kankuro. Sakura didn't think her now acidic stomach would thank her for such a move, but got a glass of wine anyway. Drinks arrived quickly.

They sat there, uncomfortable in their collective silence, when an older man strode over to the table. All of the siblings rose automatically, and Sakura hastily put down her wine to do the same. He looked like an older version of Kankuro, lines in all the places that people get when they are cross all the time. It wasn't just a frown he offered the world, it was the sense that he saw everything and it didn't meet with his approval. Once he had sat down, then the rest of them followed suit.

"You all look healthy enough." He said. Now well, not happy, nothing so personal. . . just healthy. Sakura tried not to let herself stare. "Who are you? State your name." It was said so mildly, but the order was ribbed with steel.

Gaara unfroze from his comatose state next to her. "This is my girlfriend, Sakura. . . sir." The last was an ungracious addition that was delayed enough to be purposefully rude.

"I see." The lines of disapproval deepened.

Menus came and they were all mercifully silent as they decided what to eat. Sakura tried not to cringe at the prices. Good thing she had her credit card with her. No way did she carry enough cash to cover more than soup and salad. Their orders were taken and suddenly they were all left to what she would later term in her head as 'the interrogation'. Question after question came, from tiny decisions Kankuro made about his business to Temari's search for new employment after being fired from her last job for, from what Sakura understood, disrespecting her supervisor. It felt like they were giving reports about their lives. Sakura wondered if their father was in the military, and if so then what rank.

In a way it made sense. Gaara's strange fondness for weapons, the odd number of military or camouflage uniforms in his collection of clothing, and of course that fateful paintball excursion she would never ever forget as long as she lived. He had almost made Lee cry. If he had been trained from an early age to be a weapon by his father, then his peculiar strengths were less confusing.

The interrogation reached Gaara, and here their father paused. He scratched his neck and took a deep breath. "Judging from your appearance, I still believe they let you out too early. If it weren't for the fact that you were given the option for release as soon as you reached eighteen I would have had you living your life in that institution. Rehabilitated my ass."

"It was better than another military school," Gaara spat. Storm clouds gathered in his father's eyes before he added the deadpan, "sir."

"You're insane so far as I'm concerned, and an eternal disappointment to this family."

Sakura tried not to rip her cloth napkin in two as she clenched it under the table. Gaara had gone silent and serious, signs that he was at his own edge. It was just a short jump off a tall emotional cliff once this mask of his cracked. Sakura wondered if she could have survived through such a childhood. Hell, she wanted to take the knife sitting in front of her on the table to this horrible man's throat and she didn't even have any history of instability. . . that anyone knew about anyway. (The fact that she held two sided arguments in her head was something she had always kept to herself.)

"Are we quite done?" Gaara was almost shaking with the effort not to run mad and prove his father's assertions correct. Sakura snuck her hand over to him and he clung to it painfully as soon as their skin made contact. She would have rather died than even hint at how much pain it caused her.

"Yes. You're not going to change. No matter how normal looking your woman, everyone in this family knows that you're just a monster."

Sakura watched as Temari and Kankuro refused to look in their direction of either their little brother or their father. They refused to take a side in their matter, obviously as cowed by their father as they were by Gaara. For Sakura, she had no such trouble choosing sides, and a fire lit under her to protect the person that she loved.

"I'm not his 'woman', I am his girlfriend. We are together because I like and trust him, and if you had half the faith in him that I do you would see that the only monster in Gaara is the one your image of him forces him to be."

"You have no place to speak of things you don't understand, girl."

"Sakura. . ." Gaara said trying to warn her away, but she didn't like bullies. She had experienced enough of them as a child. No longer being a child, she felt it was her duty to right these kind of wrongs since she had become a stronger person.

She inflated, spirit of the fight coursing through her veins. "I shudder to think what life with you would have been like. For my part, I don't think I need to sit here and suffer your condescension or verbal abuse. I am leaving before I do or say something unladylike. You don't deserve any more of my energy."

Dragging Gaara up with her by the hand with which they were still connected, Sakura led them out as the penetrating glare from Gaara's father practically bored holes into their backs. Gaara followed, stunned, as if he couldn't process what she had just done. By the time the valet appeared with Gaara's car and they climbed in, he was slightly more capable and aware enough to start up the car.

In the passenger seat, Sakura seethed and proceeded to enumerate all the reasons she hated Gaara's father despite the fact that she barely knew him. When she had calmed down her overloaded system, Sakura tried to comfort her stunned boyfriend who was obviously trying to get his own sense of balance back.

"Did it ever occur to you that you didn't have to go to dinner?"

"No one says 'no' to the General."

Sakura felt a sick sensation. It was easier when he was just 'Gaara's horrible father'. Giving him a rank made her suddenly feel small and insignificant. She had just told off a man who could have planes and tanks converge on her house if he were properly motivated for all she knew. He was a man who had apparently had his son committed before he was eighteen.

Gaara smiled, leaning over to give her a kiss on the cheek as she sat and pondered her fate while the car sat in the parking lot of her apartment building. The uncommon and very nearly public sign of affection forced her out of her reverie. She smiled weakly at her gothicly inclined boyfriend and sighed, climbing out of the car as gracefully as she could.

"Coming up?" She asked.

"Not tonight." Sakura didn't blame him. The mood of the evening hadn't exactly been a deal closer for an intimate night between them.

Nodding and closing the door, she caught the window of the passenger side roll down. Turning back to see what Gaara wanted she saw him lean over as far as he could so that he didn't have to raise his voice as he gave her some parting words to chew over as she made herself dinner in her nicest dress. That salmon had looked like such a good choice, but spaghetti it would be instead.

"I think I love you."

And after dropping that bomb he left her open mouthed on the asphalt. This evening was definitely not to be believed. It felt like she was the one who needed to be committed.


	5. 5

Part 5

I was bored, so you all get fic! Remember this? It was logged under humor. Let's see if I live up to that.

Fanart for the fic! I'll get links up in my author profile soon. (i.e. when I am not lazy.) It's good. It makes me happy. And I love pictures. They help me write faster.

Hurumph. Was supposed to be shorter. That was the idea. I guess this just had to play out as it would.

Disclaimer: (see Part 1)

* * *

"But you work in clubs." Sakura brandished the paper in front of him and he backed away from it bodily, faster than if it had been on fire. The chair he was in made an eerie screeching noise as it cut a path through the linoleum.

Gaara gave her a dark look. He feared that this was only the beginning, and he was very right in that respect.

"You can't make me believe that with as many concerts as you have seen that you don't at least like music."

"I like _some_ music." He looked at her as if she had forced him to speak.

"Well, it's just moving to music."

"I don't like _that_ music." He looked more than a little consternated. "I am not going to a dance class with you."

Sakura gave him a pouty look. "But I never had someone to be my partner before. . . well not anyone I wanted to be touching me anyway. Just one waltz. I won't make you do anything that requires hip twitching. Really, you'll look perfectly dignified. Please Gaara, pleaaaaaase?"

"Your friends are going to be there, aren't they?" Gaara found he dreaded that more than making a fool of himself in front of strangers. No one in a beginning ballroom dancing class would probably frequent death metal and goth bars so the risk of being spotted and later made fun of was slim. (Honestly the risk of being made fun of was slim anyway due to his appearance.) Sakura's friends were all people who he had managed to meet with varying degrees of success, but if even one person recognized him there it would just punish him.

Pushing back her pink bangs from her face, Sakura put on that oddly thoughtful look that she got when she was searching her powerful brain for a fact she couldn't quite remember. Gaara wondered if she was pretending not to remember so she wouldn't have to tell him.

"I think Lee is going; Tenten told him that ballroom dancing classes are a good way to stay in shape. . . but I think that she just wanted someone she trusted to go be her partner. It's either that or getting pawed by old men half the time. . ."

"And why is this fun?"

"Oh!" Sakura said in a slightly exasperated tone as she took a sip of tea and looked around for a waiter to get some more hot water. "When you are dancing with someone you like it can be. . . sort of magical." Obviously, from the timid way in which the last words had come out she was aware that this was not exactly a good pitch to get Gaara to change his mind.

She was a sneaky one, this girlfriend of his, choosing to tell him someplace where he couldn't easily make a scene or escape. Breakfast had been good here and he was feeling full and even satisfied when she had dropped this in him lap like hot spilled coffee. It burned. From the way she was clutching that paper with details on it and the fact that, unlike most losing battles she engaged in, she was not wisely retreating. . . Gaara felt the grim and ghastly fingers of his future claw at him.

"You have to admit, I've been very stressed out the past few weeks. . ." She hadn't changed the subject in her mind, she was simply changing tactics. Gaara warily nodded, picking at the remains of a piece of sausage on his plate. The processed meat had no revelations in it for him.

Sakura continued. "There's finals soon, for the semester, and I really wanted to do something special with you. After all, I go visit my family for a week once break hits." The waiter finally arrived with the hot water and Sakura smiled her thanks at him before going on. "We can celebrate Christmas on our own when I get back, if you like. . ."

"Whatever. I never really celebrate any holiday."

"It will be different this year," she said it with such conviction, such fire, and Gaara believed her. "What would you like, by the way?"

Gaara thought about it, trying to pin down something he could actually use that he hadn't already bought for himself. Most of his clothing was purchased on whims, he had all the stuff he could need, and asking for groceries sounded like it would simply provoke another argument of sorts about him having no imagination. He churned through possibilities and while his mind was busy he played right into her hands.

"I don't know. What do you want?" He said it absently.

As soon as she opened her mouth with that devilish look of triumph he knew he had brought this on himself. It was misdirection. That's all, and he knew he should have been more careful. Dammit, he just wasn't a morning person.

"I want to go dancing."

Yep, definitely not a morning person. He needed more coffee. Facing doom this early without a fourth cup of coffee was cruel and unusual punishment.

* * *

Sakura was, in an oblique way, surprised that she had gotten him this far. After all, Gaara simply hated putting himself in new situations. There were places he was comfortable with, and a few people, but he had absolutely no will or inclination to push those comfort zones. Meeting her friends was a good example. She had to make sure they went to places she knew he liked to eat, or in parts of town he knew well otherwise he would simply be unavailable or (on one occasion that necessitated a long discussion) not show up.

This evening was so far out of his comfort zones that her head was spinning in sympathy. However, her mercenary feelings overweighed her sympathy and she was still standing in the mostly empty community center basement and waiting for him to exit the bathroom wearing the clothes she had brought for him. This was necessary and he had been warned of it ahead of time. The "I refuse to let you scare old people" convinced him less than the "I refuse to tell you where I hid your eyeliner" portion of that discussion. She would find some clothes for him that were normal enough, and she would only force him into going to exactly one lesson plus the dance afterwards. These were the terms.

In return, she had agreed to an undisclosed demand of his so long as it didn't involve more than one day of effort. She was actually a little scared because when he smiled he had showed all his teeth and more of his bloodshot eyes than usual.

He was taking too long, something was wrong.

"Gaara, you're still in there right? You didn't climb out a window. . ." She knocked on the door.

". . . I'm still here."

"Are you coming out?"

". . . I'm thinking about it."

Sakura had triumph within her grasp, a night of dancing, and she wasn't about to give up on it when she was so close.

"You're coming out, or else I'm coming in and dragging you out. And if I have to drag you out then there's no way you're getting your present."

There was a silence following this that she was sure was sullen. "Fine." The door opened and out stepped Gaara. At first her brain glossed over, and she looked passed the person who exited, trying to see if maybe Gaara was hiding in back somewhere. But then she saw the eye makeup and knew that this indeed had to be Gaara. Sakura's eye twitched as she tried not to laugh.

"The window was too small wasn't it?" She asked, firmly clamping down on her twitching lip. If she laughed it would all be over.

"_YES_." He said with vehemence that told her he had tried and that it wasn't a joke.

Honestly, he didn't look bad. He just didn't look like Gaara. The slacks were clean and pressed, their creases sharp. . . and they were tan. The shirt was _pastel_ blue, and not ripped in any way. The vest he wore was navy, and didn't have any slogan, buttons, abstract art or anything at all creative decorating it. If not for the eye makeup, he would look not just normal, but conservative. Something inside of him must be slowly dying. He really had to love her to put himself though this.

"Let's get this over with." Gaara said, the look of pure agony on his face moved her past amusement and back into compassion. He was doing this for her. She would try to let him retain what dignity he had left. She took the bag in which his regular clothes rested and heard them clink as metal clasps hit one another softly. Yes, this was certainly a change for him.

They moved in the direction of the dance studio up the stairs and on the main floor, an old one used from everything from community college ballet classes to jazz and tap when people wanted a cheap place to practice. The center often had dance lessons here, and you could drop in and pay at the door if you wanted a lesson for the night. Every lesson went over a few beginning steps of some kind of dance for an hour or so and then for another few hours there would be music going to practice with and in general more people showed up to dance. It was a very low key kind of social event and attracted lots of different kinds of people. Sakura often saw high school kids as well as elderly couples, and the prerequisite number of bachelors of various ages who came to dance with the women who showed up with no partner. It had only taken a few leering fiftysomethings to convince her that she had to return with a partner if she did this again.

Lucky for her, she had one with her this time.

The board on which announcements were posted said, "cha-cha, polka, waltz" and below that "$3". Gaara had moved into a form of shell shock and so Sakura paid the money and dragged him in by the hand. She would make him enjoy this. Naturally, some portion of her mind had conveniently blanked out why and how she knew about this dancing class in the first place. Sakura was forcibly reminded almost the second she entered.

"Sakura! What a pleasant surprise!" Lee zipped over to her, leaving Tenten behind to shake her head and smile. His puppy-like crush on Sakura had mostly abated since she had gotten a boyfriend, but he was always eager to see and talk to any friend. Something inside of her told her that the crush was not quite gone yet, as well. A slightly disturbing thought. Good thing for her that Gaara seemed to get along with Lee better than most of her other friends. Otherwise, this might have been a tragedy as well as a catastrophe tonight. Gaara's back stiffened upon seeing the boy and he gripped Sakura's hand painfully.

"Lee, so you and Tenten showed up after all. . . Tenten had said she was so busy that I hadn't expected to see you. . ." Tenten was wandering over, a slightly apologetic smile on her face.

"As always it's a pleasure to see you, Sakura. It was a last minute decision to come, really. I thought that I should grasp the opportunity to try out new experiences. We're only young once, right?" The smile he gave her was almost blinding. She swore he had to bleach his teeth to get them that way, but this was Lee. . . it probably was natural.

Well, that explained why Tenten and Lee were here. Even though Sakura had warned Tenten and told her that they needed to have this class with as few encounters as possible with people they knew, if Lee had been the one to insist then no wonder any of her protests had fallen flat. Lee was simply too determined to be denied. Meanwhile Gaara's breathing was becoming significantly more ragged, as if he were slowly beginning to hyperventilate. Not good.

"Sakuraaa. . ." He said under his breath. She actively chose not to look back at him.

With an excited demeanor Lee pointed out that the teacher was here and quickly moved to Tenten's side with fire in his eyes. He was ready for this like nothing else. Gaara wished it was anything else. Sakura was somewhere in the middle, looking down at her comfortable, low heeled dancing shoes and wondering if she could get a refund for them if she took them in tomorrow.

"Ok everyone!" The instructor said into the headset she had just put on. "Let's begin with the cha-cha."

* * *

The lesson actually didn't go too badly. Gaara wished for death at every turn, naturally, but he had been subjected to worse things. Actually, the only thing that really began to grate on him towards the end of the lesson was the way that the Lee kid actually picked up on it quickly. Gaara simply wasn't prepared for the way they were asking him to move. The cha-cha was a pointless dance, and Sakura had promised no hip swinging so he got out of that one on a technicality. The polka, a horrendous dance that basically consisted of galloping around the room as fast as possible while sometimes swinging in a circle or something along those lines. . . was more exercise than he had had to do in quite a long time. For Gaara it was all about short spurts of energy and this business with the continuous motion was far more wearing on the body than he had thought. Lee was eating it up, excited for the exercise.

Sakura may have lost Gaara after the polka if not for the fact that he saw Lee as direct competition and Gaara didn't consider losing an option. He would be better than that weird kid with the bowl cut at one of these dances if it killed him. Lee twisted and spun Tenten about with almost indecent enthusiasm. Gaara had his attention so focused on Lee that he didn't even try for a playful grope while his hands were placed at Sakura's hips. He was aware of her amusement, but he chose to tune it out. Lee did something complicated with his feet and Gaara gripped Sakura a little too hard so that she yelped.

"Watch it. We get enough stares as it is. Bruises won't help, especially with this crowd. That little old couple _will_ call the cops on you if you manage to look any more threatening." Sakura rubbed his back in comforting circles, while Gaara glared over at the couple she had been referring to only to see them avert their eyes quickly. He knew the clothes wouldn't work. He was a wolf in sheep's clothing and everyone in the room knew it.

At the end of the lesson portion, he thought maybe the worst of it was over. Then more people began to arrive and he revised his opinion. It was one thing to be stared at by old people. That was nothing new. It was something else to be giggled at by high school students. A whole gaggle of them came in together, a few with reluctant boys in tow much like he had been with Sakura. One or two looked in his direction and covered her mouth while whispering to the girl next to her. Sakura had abandoned him to a corner while she talked with Tenten and Lee. Great, now little girls were snickering over him and old people were ready to throw him out by his tan slacks. A scuffle with the police sounded like fun in comparison to tonight.

"So glum." Sakura rejoined him, claiming his arm in such as way that a couple of the teen girls began to pout in disappointment. _Good_, thought Gaara, _that should at least take away some of hemorrhaging agony of the evening_. Dancing with Sakura he would bear, maybe. Dancing with teenyboppers was not part of the contract. "The first dance is a waltz. We just learned this, please, can we?"

"No," Gaara said quickly, caught off guard. There was barely anyone on the dance floor. He wanted a crowd to be lost in before he risked this dancing business. "I want to watch first." It was a lame cover, not quite masking his obvious unsettlement. It was just the beginning of the evening, so Sakura seemed at ease.

"I'll be back, but I swear if you keep me waiting too long I'll tell those girls over there that you love the cha-cha." There was not enough venom in the world to match what was in his eyes. He toned it down when he saw the elderly couple looking at him again, then thought better of it and bared his teeth at them. They gave him a huffy look and spun out onto the dance floor. If only the teenagers were so easily intimidated; they were inching nearer to him.

True to form, the first few dances featured songs that you could apply the lessons to. The cha-cha was next and Sakura found herself partnered with Lee. Gaara would have been jealous if not for the fact that watching the mop haired man swing his hips in his too-tight pants was bizarre and just about everything that could be the opposite of alluring. Sakura didn't seem that taken with him and kept as much space between their bodies as possible. Lee didn't seem to notice, so keen was he to dance.

Tenten, without a partner and not really knowing anyone else, wandered over to Gaara's corner. She shrugged, pushing some stray hairs that had fallen out of her bun behind her ear.

"Sorry about Lee. I tried to tell him today wouldn't work, but Lee can't be denied when he's determined."

"You're wrong." The flat, rude statement made Tenten frown. "He didn't get Sakura."

He was baiting her, wanting to see how she would react, amusing himself while Sakura was busy. For a while now, her friends had been aware that he was only a nice person to her, but it still shocked them how uncivil and blunt he could be after this long. The things they said to her about him were probably building behind the scenes until they tried an intervention to get her away from him. Maybe that was just a paranoid thought on his part. Either way, he was bored, he was irritated, and this is the only outlet he had that didn't involve blood or caffeine. God he wanted a cigarette right now, those stupid patches weren't worth shit and the gum was like licking asphalt.

"I suppose he didn't." Tenten finally supplied after a long pause. "But she's just as stubborn. I didn't expect that you'd actually be here tonight."

"Hmph." The way Gaara was staring at Lee sourly hadn't been lost on Tenten. Her pity for him only managed to aggravate him more.

"Look, Lee is just all about moving his body. Sometimes people are naturals at things like dancing. You don't need to worry about it. Why when I first started—"

"We're not going to talk about this."

"Fine." Tenten looked like she was ready to throw her hands up and dance with one of the older men who had come in, but she tried to talk to Gaara again anyway. It was a bad time either way. "Have you ever thought about smiling once in a while? You wouldn't look as scary if you didn't glower like all the time."

"This is not a glower." It wasn't. When he really glowered, people gave him more space than Tenten was giving him right now. "This is a frown. It's something I do when I'm displeased. And wouldn't you be displeased if you were coerced into doing something you didn't want to?"

Tenten smirked. "From what I heard from Sakura you weren't coerced, you were bribed."

Over to the side, the teen girls giggled and pointed at him. A glower was threatening to emerge.

* * *

"It's hopeless, I tried to get him to move out of the corner, but he just can't be budged. I'm pretty sure he didn't rip or stain his pants in any embarrassing way so it must just be because he's mortified of people seeing him dance. What can I do?"

Sakura whined in the girl's room while Tenten reapplied her lipstick. Lee was chatting with Gaara back in the dance hall, his purposeful obliviousness to Gaara's rudeness somehow allowed that conversation to move forward without too many kinks in the works.

"You tried threats?"

"What could I possibly threaten him with? When push comes to shove I could barely put a dent in him, and he doesn't fear anything."

"You tried promises?"

"There isn't anything he wants that he doesn't already get and holding sex over his head as an enticement seems childish."

"You tried reverse psychology?"

Sakura stared scathingly at Tenten using the mirror until the older girl shrugged and went back to fixing her hair more thoroughly.

"I don't know what to say then. You're really on your own with this one. There isn't anything I can do for you."

With a spark of an idea in her head, Sakura leaned on the sink counter and caught Tenten's eye again. "Maybe nothing we can do, but I bet Lee could get him out there."

"That's just cruel to sick Lee on him. You know what he's like. One or the other would probably end up dead."

"It's not a fight. It's just trying to get him to dance."

"Fine, not death, maybe just a broken bone or two."

Sakura huffed at Tenten's over dramatization of the situation and went out to find Lee. Gaara was looking amused as he watched Lee lecture some young kids about the importance of staying healthy. Sometimes Sakura saw life as a personal trainer in Lee's future, and then realized that his strict regimen might kill a lesser being.

"Lee! Let's uh," she paused to identify the style of the song. "foxtrot. You did it earlier with Tenten. Just a box, right?"

"Of course, Sakura! Excuse me, but I must leave off there. Remember, you have to take care of yourselves now while you are in the prime of your life. Your body will thank you for it later." The high schoolers looked very gratefully to Sakura who dragged Lee away.

Once they were dancing, she couldn't help but ask. "How did you start talking to them?"

"Oh, that?" Lee gave her a blinding smile as he expertly moved them around the floor. He really was a skilled dancer, with almost no practice. No wonder Gaara obviously resented him. "Why Gaara and I were talking when one of the girls began to speak very loudly about how the dance was so boring and they should go somewhere to get fast food. They were looking in our direction, and I commented on how such things would only corrupt the body. Gaara suggested I tell them that, and I went to go do that very thing. He's surprisingly thoughtful sometimes."

A voice in her mind snickered at Gaara's obvious manipulation of Lee. He didn't even have to try. Then she realized she was about to do something just as bad and silenced that inner voice before the hypocrisy knocked her on her butt.

"Lee?"

"Yes?"

"The night's almost over and Gaara hasn't danced once. I wonder if you could show him a few steps. He might just need to go over it again. I'm sure that I could get him to dance if you could just refresh his memory about how the steps go. I would show him, but I don't know the leader's part. I would just get confused."

It was almost sad the way his face lit up. Lee so liked to be helpful. "I would be glad to help you! Let's go over right now. I thought he looked a little sad all night. Why didn't he say he couldn't remember the steps?"

"He's just very proud."

They walked over and Gaara tilted his head to the side curiously, not fully comprehending what was in store. Then Lee began to lecture him. Gaara froze, unable to process this new onslaught. After the initial explanation, Lee began coaching Gaara by grabbing his hands and placing them in dance position on his body. Lee put on a simpering expression, trying to look like a girl, and told Gaara to follow his feet just like he had demonstrated before. They took one step before Gaara mumbled something about understanding it perfectly and grabbed Sakura's arm to lead her onto the floor. The whole process had taken almost four minutes to do what Sakura had been trying to achieve for nearly two hours.

"You're evil, but I think you know that." Sakura allowed herself a small chuckle. Gaara formed up his hands and arms, carefully getting them right so that he could receive Lee's patented smile and thumbs up from the sidelines.

The next song had already started and lo and behold it was the waltz that Sakura had been pining for. It was everything she had wanted and. . . extra. The extra was when Gaara stepped on her foot rather hard a couple times, but that was fine because for the most part it was very enjoyable. They glided along the dance floor, even swinging around in circles, until they were both too dizzy and went back to the simple box. Gaara eventually lost that fierce look of concentration as he tried to get the steps right and things actually flowed.

To Sakura, the song ended much too soon.

"Good?" Gaara asked. They lingered on the floor as the next song started up.

"Yes." Sakura had a dreamy look on her face, thinking that they could manage this next song too. It didn't seem to complicated. She turned out to be far too optimistic.

"Right then." Gaara began to drag Sakura off of the floor and out of the room.

She sputtered a protest as they lingered only long enough to pick up their things. "Where are we going?"

"You're happy and I've fulfilled my part in all this. All that's left is what you promised me and we've got lots of time tonight to do that."

They snapped up his clothes, and Sakura noted that he must be really eager for his gift since he wasn't even pausing to change out of his preppy outfit before they headed for the car.

"And what exactly am I doing?"

"Just posing for a few pictures." Gaara said, the frightening smile back on his lips.

Sakura drew her brows together as she thought back. "But I returned that vinyl outfit."

"Who said you'd be wearing anything?"

She wondered if the waltz had been worth it.


	6. 6

So I'm thinking just this and one more chapter and then I'll sign off on this project. My interest in Naruto has been petering out as a source of inspiration, and I was meaning to turn to original projects solely by my next birthday (January).

That being said, this idea smacked me in the head last night right before I went to sleep. And I mean _right before_. The dialogue and etc kept me awake an extra hour and darn it all I was stupid tired today. But as a result, you get a new chapter.

Weeeeeeee!

Disclaimer: See Part 1.

* * *

It had been something like a whim. Spring was shaking hands with summer and her finals were behind her long enough so that she had caught up on some sleep. When her parents had called, interrupting her in mid-nightmare of bad grades and attending tests with too little clothing they had asked and she had mumbled and that had bound her into a devilish verbal contract.

". . . and bring along that artist of yours. Your father and I are just dying to meet him."

"Ya huh. 'K mom. See ya soon."

Click. Snooze. Pause.

_DOOOOM!_

The way out had been so simple. There was no way Gaara would agree to this in a million years. Only he did. She had brought it up in an offhand way at first, thinking he would simply refuse like he did when she suggested anything that smacked of a vacation together. What with his own family issues, she assumed he would rather get teeth pulled than see her nice, normal, _conservative_ mom and dad.

She had tried to warn him a little bit after that, bring up the inconvenience of the timetable her parents wanted them to visit in, maybe mention how her neighborhood was the very picture of suburbia and there would be plane tickets involved. Sakura had harped on about the costs so much, in an effort to dissuade him that he showed up one day with a wad of cash and shoved it into her hands as she sputtered.

"You said the opinions of your parents mean the world to you, didn't you?" He asked as she looked forlornly at what he said would be enough for first class round trip tickets if she would stop talking about costs.

"Yes," She answered honestly. Sakura loved her parents, for all their quirks, and it would destroy her when. . . if. . . they didn't approve of the man she had been dating for the better part of a year.

"Then we're going to see them next week."

She didn't even get mad at him for his autocratic ways because she wished she had half the confidence he seemed to that this situation would not explode in drama. Not ever her excellent test scores could console her about her immediate future.

* * *

He looked far too calm as they approached her parents' front door. In fact, how dare he look so collected when she was feeling like she was having a heart attack! She could already feel the way the neighbors were curiously peering from behind designer drapes to stare at the man who was invading their safe suburban world. Manicured lawns mocked his messy hair. Nicely kept houses in bright colors paled in shock at his insistence upon wearing all black on such a sunny day. If Sakura hadn't been there, she knew someone would have called the police already. They still might.

"We can still go back, you know." Sakura fidgeted, fingering the material of her pastel yellow sundress and trying to keep memories from rushing back and overwhelming her. She wanted to go home, she wanted it very badly, but not at the cost of this relationship that she found to be so special with Gaara.

Gaara rolled his eyes visibly and knocked on the door.

It was flung open and Sakura felt like she was a kid again. There was her mother, glossy hair pulled back and put up into a loose bun; there was no grey since her mother dyed it regularly. She had on an outfit that would have made any 50s housewife proud. It wasn't affected because that's the way she had always dressed. Sakura couldn't ever remember having seen her mother wear pants. Manicured hands extended to embrace Sakura and clucked over her as she led her little girl back inside. If there was any indication that she had seen Gaara, Sakura couldn't see it.

"Honey, I'm so glad you could come. Your father and I were just pleased as punch that you could come after all. You sounded so piquant when we called you I was very nearly going to send you one of those emails you seem to like so much." That was her mother, one of those people the women's liberation movement somehow missed on the outside. Sakura knew better. Her mother was a sharp woman. "And this must be your, er, artist."

Gaara cocked his head to one side. Sakura had thought about begging him to leave off the makeup for one day, but she had a feeling that he would be disappointed in her if she asked. There was no softening the blow. Her parents had to know the whole truth and that was that.

"I'm Mrs. Haruno, but you can call me Hana." She extended her hands and grasped both of his. She looked down and noted his nails were as carefully painted as her own, but in a deep shade of green.

"Gaara." For a moment Sakura thought she saw her mother's eyebrows draw down in the beginnings of a frown but soon they were being whisked away to the living room.

"Dear! Sakura and Gaara are here! Now get in here!" Hana fluttered around them, pushing a plate of gourmet cheese and crackers in their direction. "He's just so enthralled by our new barbeque. It's one of those new little hobbies he started up now that he's getting close to retirement. We even get magazines for it."

"Sakura!" Before she knew it she was being hugged by her father who smelled like smoked meat and sauce. "You're looking even more adult every time I see you."

She couldn't help but feel comforted, since it all seemed so normal still. "Daddy, I am an adult, remember?"

"Of course of course, and this must be your, er, artist."

Gaara was getting a glazed look in his eye that told Sakura she would regret that particular choice of words to her parents for a long long time.

"Dad, Mom, this is Gaara. . . . my boyfriend." She wanted to run away or vomit or die. The silence was oppressive while her parents waited for Gaara to add his introduction personally. He snorted out a small laugh, and Hana gave a displeased cough.

"Sakura, why don't you go help your father set up the little dinner we'll have on the patio?" Code red! Gaara and mother alone together! "Your, er, Gaara can help me in here while I get the side dishes ready."

"Sounds great, Mom." Helpless.

On the patio, Sakura looked in as Gaara chopped onions for her mother in the kitchen and seemed to respond in more than grunts to Hana's fast chirping questions. Clearly her mother missed her calling in life as a police interrogator. Meanwhile her father was flipping steaks and casually trying to express his concern in his own fatherly way.

"I have to admit, Sakura, when I first saw that boy I was afraid you had brought one of your college girl friends here instead."

"Daddy!"

"Sugar, he wears more makeup than you and your mother combined." He poked at a bleeding bit of beef and nodded before closing the top of the barbeque. "Can't a father be concerned? I'll admit you spoiled us by being practically perfect for all those years. Really, we always thought you'd end up with one of the neighborhood boys. Like Uzumaki. He turned out to be a nice boy, even with that rough background. . ."

This was starting to smack of her parent's usual elitism. She wasn't about to talk about Gaara's famous and rather powerful father just to waive her parents' opinion of him. But it was so tempting to anyway. However, she was trying to think about what she _could_ say about Gaara. That he was good with knives? That he sometimes refrained from frightening people as much as he could? That he had quit smoking finally just last month for her?

"You know I never liked you talking about Naruto like that."

"I hope he's gotten a little more responsible. He was always a little too carefree with everything, time, money. . ."

"And friendship. Now, stop being mean. I know you hate Gaara, just say it." Sakura almost pouted. She had been a daddy's girl from way back, since mom had been the strong hand of justice.

Her father paused, seeming pained, and as he was about to say something Gaara and Hana sailed in with bowls of various things, salad (of the ceasar and potato varieties), vegetables, some tomatoes swimming in olive oil and vinegar, and a loaf of bread. It all looked great, and Sakura admired her mother's magic touch in the kitchen anew.

"My, but Gaara is a handy one to have in the kitchen. He cut up those veggies for me faster than the professional chefs I've seen on the cooking channel." Hana smiled at him and Gaara gave her a dazed look. Of course he would be good with knives. Sakura bit her tongue in an attempt not to laugh.

They all settled down to a meal, Gaara across from Sakura and Sakura's parents across from one another. From a certain point of view, everyone had everyone else surrounded. The food was good, and Sakura praised her mother while Gaara simply ate in his usual concentrated manner. At least he wasn't messy, just slow.

Sakura took the opportunity to tell her parents all about her finals and her plans for next year, and various anecdotes about her teachers and friends. Tales about Gaara were mostly absent, but he couldn't help but figure into a few of them. She simply couldn't resist the paintball story. Her father laughed at that one.

"Gaara, my boy, so you know a thing or two about guns do you? Come of back to the shed with me and take a look at the old hunting rifle. It was a gift from my father a long time ago, but I don't think it could possibly still be working after all this time." To her credit, Sakura did not choke on her glass of lemonade. Gaara. Her father. Guns. Shed out back. Her father was going to kill Gaara and stuff him behind the shed.

"Ok." Gaara seemed entirely unconcerned. Of course not. She knew he was sizing up her father and deciding in a fair fight that the older man had no chance. "Mr. Haruno." He added the last part slowly, after Sakura kicked him under the table.

"Call me Eiji."

The rest of the meal passed in something like a normal fashion and everyone took dishes in before the men began their stroll to the shed. The stress was killing her, and she was regressing what with all the memories of this place. Sakura bit one of her nails, only to be swatted by her mother for it.

"You stopped doing that years ago! Nasty habit."

"I only stopped because you began painting my nails with that stuff that tasted like castor oil."

"And it worked, didn't it honey?"

Sakura glanced back at the shed as her mother checked on the state of a cake in the refrigerator. Dessert for later, she supposed, and it was probably something with strawberries because they were Sakura's favorite.

"Don't worry so much," Hana, in a rare moment of non-smiling, put a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Your father is just looking for some common ground. You didn't give us much to work with, you know."

She did know, and she felt guilty for it. "I really love him, mom."

There were some fine lines around her mother's still somewhat youthful face when her lips tightened. "That's just what I wanted to hear from you." She sighed. "I wish I could read that boy at all. Other than finding out that he makes improvements on some of his own clothes he didn't give away much. And I suppose I should be happy so long as one of you can sew."

"Mom!"

"You really were hopeless with it, but it's a skill that every household needs. You'll understand when you have your first child. I wouldn't mind a grandchild soon."

Sakura felt like she was blushing from the roots of her hair out.

There was a distant crash and not long after that Gaara came staggering in, holding a hand to his head. "Daddy!" Sakura was ready to accuse him of assault against her boyfriend when Gaara made eye contact and shook his head.

"Your boyfriend has some fast reflexes there, Sakura. That old motorboat engine I was trying to fix finally got loose from those chains. I swear they weren't that rusty a year ago." Hana was fussing with Gaara, getting his a cold compress and checking to see if anything had broken the skin. "He pushed me out of the way but it knocked him a good one. Good thing the blade side was on the bottom."

Eiji smiled something real and steady, and Sakura could tell that maybe the day wasn't lost after all. Her mother wanted her to be happy, and her father really was trying to get along with him even if he had an unconventional appearance.

That night, as they slept in twin singles in her old room (which they pushed together as quietly as possible) Sakura reflected on how, if anything, her parents had doted on Gaara more than her after the engine attack. Her mother had shown him a million Sakura baby pictures and a healthy number of the older years (even the short time she had had braces much to her horror) up until high school. Gaara had looked at her high school pictures a little too long, particularly the ones from when they had been at the beach and she had bought her first two piece. She almost accused him of being a pervert in front of them, but he knew her tongue was tied on this one and smirked at her. Then Gaara and Hana had traded makeup tips while Eiji told Sakura about the trip he and Hana were planning for later that summer.

At the end of the night everyone was still a little awkward, and Eiji and Hana hadn't seemed to have decided what they would call this new person in their daughter's life, but it had been a day without tears and with only one possible concussion.

"You're lucky." Gaara said into the darkness, one arm probably falling asleep under Sakura's head.

"Why? Because my parents are crazy throwbacks to the 50s?"

"No. They really want you to be happy." He turned towards her, and she thought about how this was as close as she ever got to seeing him without his makeup. Gaara would always get up earlier than her to do it, and went to bed after the lights were out. Such a strange sense of vanity he had. "Your mother's hand was shaking when she met me. And your father always kept his distance. . . but they smile and pretend I don't bother them just for you."

He was underestimating himself again, though it was true that they weren't used to him. But Gaara, when he wasn't being jealous or going through mysterious throws of violent angst was a fairly calm and normal person. She didn't know why she had had doubts. Her parents were normal to the point of being weird, but they weren't close minded. They had simply approached "the American dream" with the same enthusiasm that they had taken to being hippy children way back when. And her mother insisted she had never worn pants then either. . . but also hadn't shaved her legs. This suburban life wasn't all there was to them just as the scary goth boy wasn't all that Gaara was, but it was a good beginning on both sides.

"I envy you."

Sakura didn't say anything, afraid in a sudden bout of affection to offer to make them his parents too and drive him away with such a radically committed statement. Right now she knew she loved him, and she knew that her parents maybe didn't approve, yet, but weren't going to object.

A sudden knock at the door had them springing apart as if they were kids about to be caught doing something naughty. Gaara jerked so far, in fact, that he fell out of bed with a soft thump onto the carpet. The door didn't open but Hana's voice was clear through the thin wood.

"Goodnight you two, sleep tight!"

"Goodnight mom!" Sakura called back, holding back her laughter.


	7. 7

The LAST PART.

As such I tried to give it a sense of closure. Dunno. I think they'll be happy. I mean, I really didn't think they'd work out in a modern setting and yet they continued to surprise me by being utterly sweet to one another.

This is me waving my GaaSaku flag. Yay for shipping things that will never happen in canon.

Hope everyone enjoyed the jaunt through my mind's version of their personalities. Thanks for reading.

Big heart to all you reviewers. You really embraced this fic for reasons unknown to me. "Teh luv" to you.

Disclaimer: See Part 1

* * *

Sakura was normally a very reasonable person. Her friends were willing to admit without any prompting or covert elbow jabbing that she was a kind person, smart and conscientious. She always remembered birthdays, she liked to visit sick friends, and she could always be counted on if one was in a bind and needed a favor. Sakura would go the extra mile for anyone.

But. . .

In a way there were two Sakura's. Her dual personality often confused people at first if they were unlucky enough to see her _other_ side. When that fearsome concentration and intellect was being turned to something like blind anger or suspicion then Sakura could seem like a she-demon. The single-minded ability of hers to study seemed admirable until it was suddenly an angry obsessive force over whatever was bothering her. Her delicate features would distort and twitch with the strength of her feeling.

Naruto was well acquainted with both Sakuras. He had been on the receiving end of her childhood ire, when the less idyllic side had been able to roam more freely. It had been years since he had seen her _this_ bad. Hinata had left to get some snacks for them, but in reality his girlfriend had escaped because Sakura's malevolence was almost palpable in the room like a black cloud radiating from her seat on the couch.

"You've got to be kidding me." Naruto stared at her with his scrunched up old man face, the one he put on when he was trying to look serious and concerned.

"Oh no. I think I'm pretty sure." Sakura clenched a fist and looked to the window as if the object of her rage was right outside. "Gaara is cheating on me. And I'm going to kill him. Both of them."

Naruto, who was no expert on the angry goth boy but who had come to a sort of understanding with him after months of mutual aggression didn't think that Gaara would be the sort of guy to do that. He was way too wrapped up in Sakura to seem to care about other chicks. Then again, Sakura wasn't the sort who leaped to conclusions. Or at least, not usually the sort.

"You're _sure_?"

"Positive."

He hummed and tilted his head to the side. "What evidence do you have?"

She faltered a little on that, which only served to make her face look more biliously aggravated. "Nothing concrete yet, but it's the only answer that makes sense. It's not like I have photos!"

"I'm going to need more information than that, Sakura." Naruto snorted.

She crossed her legs one way, then the other. Finally, with a huff, she launched into her story.

* * *

It was a month before their one year anniversary. Sakura was excited about this for several reasons. The first was that it was probably the longest relationship she had managed in a while. The second reason was because Gaara had promised to take some time out for a real vacation, or mini-vacation really, so they could relax. He had been busy ever since the weather got nice again and the clubs did brisk business. The main reason she was happy, however, was just to be around him. She was worried about her next approaching semester and somehow he always managed to calm her by being a regular emotional vacuum. He was her emotional sponge, and Sakura needed that to temper her tendency to overreact.

Then one by one the bombs began to drop. "We can't go on vacation."

"What! Why?" Sakura had been looking over hotels near the seaside area they had discussed visiting. Gaara's rather pointed dislike of water was one of those things she was hoping she could change by some good associations with it. After all, he seemed to like beaches well enough. "We can go somewhere else if you're _that _set against—"

"That's not it. I'm busy."

Sakura put her pen down with a smack that probably could be heard across the room before she sweetly asked. "Busy?"

"Kankuro needs me that weekend. He booked a new death metal band to play. He wanted some extra insurance."

This sounded a little bit like an excuse. True Kankuro had been on better terms with his brother since she had come to know the whole family, but Gaara could have said no to what seemed more like a favor than an absolute need for Gaara's presence as security.

"You could tell him no, couldn't you?"

Gaara just stared at her and then slowly shook his head. Sakura had laughed, a slight edge to it, as she crumpled up the list of hotels and threw it in the trash. That had just been the start of his strange distancing.

There was the way he was avoiding her, or seeming to, and his unwillingness to discuss his days or how his work was going. She used to coax whole sentences out of him, but now she was lucky if she managed an expressive grunt as he collapsed onto her sofa. Always face first too. She was thinking of buying a black sofa before hers became one by default from all the makeup he was smudging into it.

He could sleep at his own apartment. He was just visiting her out of obligation, it seemed. They weren't really spending time together. She would watch him hit her couch, sleep for a while, then stagger back out to do who knows what.

Then there was the final straw that moved her from worried observation into raging anger. She was moving his limbs around on the couch so that he wouldn't wake up with cramps and she noticed something scrawled on his arm. It was a number. It looked like it had been written in eyeliner, but it must be important if he had bothered to protect it from the moshing and brawling that seemed to follow Gaara whenever he worked at clubs. It was only a little smudged, so she wrote it down on a piece of paper and basically forgot about it.

It was only when Gaara woke up and pointedly tried to keep her from seeing his arm that Sakura had gotten suspicious. He didn't have any sleeves on his shirt after all, so he had gone to great lengths to hide it. The next day, when she was by herself she had called the number. . . and some girl named "Yuuki" had answered. Sakura hadn't said a thing to her. She had ground her teeth and hung up quickly.

So that's the way it was.

The next day she couldn't even be frosty at him because he didn't show up. Or even the day after that. His reluctance to get a cell phone was only aiding Sakura's frustration.

She didn't know what she would do if he ended this relationship. The idea of him cheating sent her into a frenzy, but the idea of him leaving altogether paralyzed her heart. It was easier to just get mad at him for the one thing and confront things from there.

* * *

"You could be, uhhh, a little hasty on this. . ." Naruto thought that things looked pretty bad for Gaara right now. He knew that Gaara was well trained in self defense, and for that goth boy's sake he was glad because Sakura was a fearsome enemy when she got riled. He remembered that black eye in the second grade still. Damn if he hadn't been made fun of for years for that one. While he didn't think she'd resort to violence these days, the possibility still lingered. The threat, rather.

"What else could it be?" She practically wailed it. The glistening in her eyes was suspicious but no tears fell so Naruto was willing to ignore it. Crying women weren't his thing.

Oh man, Gaara was an idiot. He had Sakura. _Sakura_. Naruto would have given anything before the age of eighteen to have claimed the same. Now he had Hinata and it was a moot point, but damn, for her to find someone she really liked and for him to have the gall to cheat on her. Naruto knew Lee would back him up. Between the two of them they could definitely take down that brat. They could take turns holding him down while the other punched.

Scratch that. Lee would hold him down for Naruto, but would probably want to fight him fair on his own turn. It would take some negotiation.

Oh shit. Sakura had been talking again. Hm.

"You're probably right." Agreeing with her was always a safe bet at any time.

"Of course I am." Sakura was sniffing hard now. Naruto got up to grab some tissue from the bathroom when the door opened and Hinata walked in with wild eyes. Honestly, she often looked a little scared, but she looked worse than usual.

Behind her was the man of the hour, Gaara, looking worse for wear. Naruto rushed past Hinata, pushing Gaara back into the hallway even as he closed the door quickly behind him.

"You do _not _want to be here right now. Get out." Naruto, who didn't know the truth of the matter, still felt like beating his pale face into a bloody mess.

"I will see her." Gaara said, swaying a little on his feet. He blinked hard and scowled at Naruto, meeting him glare for glare.

Over his dead body. "I don't know what you've been doing to her, but she's pretty pissed off and I'm not far behind. Get out of here before I have to make you."

Gaara snorted. "You can't stop me from seeing my girlfriend."

"Oh? Why not go see Yuuki then if Sakura isn't available?" Naruto was proud he had remembered the name.

He couldn't be sure if the color had drained from Gaara's face because the boy was so white where he wasn't black to begin with, but the smirk had dissolved. "Yuuki. . .?" He ran a hand through his hair. "You're going to let me in to see her right now, or I am going to break your arm."

"Ha! I'd like to see you—OW OW OW BASTARD!" The man was fast, Naruto had to admit that. And his arm really wasn't used to being bent like that.

It was a sort of relief, really, when Sakura pulled open the door forcefully. She was an avenging goddess, wild eyed and beautiful, and Naruto was so happy to see her he almost cried a little. Of course that reaction was mostly prompted by the _amazing pain_ his arm was in.

"Sakura. . ."

"If I wanted to see you, Gaara, I would go look under a rock somewhere. Get. Out."

She was in fine form, her brought up to its full height, back stiff, her cheeks pink and glowing. The battle aura around her was enough to even make Gaara cringe a bit.

"You have things wrong."

"Oh? Do I? Maybe I should call Yuuki and see what's right then?" The wetness was reappearing as she ranted. That was no good, if she lost it then either she would rain blows of the both of them or she would huddle up and cry pitifully. Rock and a hard place. "Why have you been avoiding me?"

Gaara pushed Naruto away and the blond boy rotated his sore arm while he dubiously watched Gaara dig in a pocket. He was still swaying, blinking furiously, and seemed to catch himself before he fell over.

"For you." Gaara held up something that glinted green in the dim fluorescent light of the apartment's hallway.

And with that he fell down face first onto the cheap carpeting, passed out, dead to the world. Sakura picked up the ring which had rolled next to one wall and blew on it before sliding it onto her right ring finger.

The tears finally began, much to Naruto's chagrin, and she sniffled as she added with a petulant grimace. "It's too small."

* * *

Gaara awoke to find himself on an unfamiliar couch. Sakura watched him look around, eyes still unfocused, as everything in him tensed. There was no rest for this boy. He went from unconscious to paranoid in less time than it took most people to realize their alarm was going off. She had only seen him relax a few times, and most of those times had been after hard workouts located in her bedroom for their mutual good health.

He started up, scanning the room, when he spotted her on a stool near the kitchen counter. Whatever he saw in her face it seemed to put him at ease enough to walk over, but not even a smirk cracked his lips. He stopped about an arms length away from her. If she was going to punch him, he would have enough time to get out of the way. Sakura had calmed down enough to not feel like doing something that rash.

"You thought I was cheating on you."

"Things were looking that way."

She felt his disappointment in her. Maybe she was projecting the disappointment she felt within herself. Whatever it was, she was feeling like crap. She lifted up the stone to catch the light from the overhead kitchen lamps.

"This is a real emerald, isn't it?" He nodded. "And all the carving on the setting was commissioned right?" He nodded again.

"Yuuki Ishikawa. She also does tattoos." His eyes were fixed on the stone as Sakura turned it about to catch the light. "I thought about offering to get you a tattoo, too. . ."

That at least was funny enough to make her laugh, even thought she knew it wasn't a joke. "I'm not a tattoo sort of person, Gaara."

"I know."

The ring looked more than expensive. He must have been putting in overtime, any work he could get, losing sleep and picking up money wherever he could to afford this. No wonder no trips. This was better than a trip. While Sakura was just starting to feel bad, Gaara managed to make it a thousand times worse.

"You should put it on."

"It doesn't fit," She shoved it back down to the base of her finger, where it was indeed just a little too tight. "See?"

He took it off of her right ring finger and slipped it onto the left, where it _did _fit. "I measured it in your sleep one night. Your left hand is smaller, a little."

All she could do was stare at her hand. The slight creepiness of his statement was forgotten as she realized what this ring really was.

"You don't have to give me an answer right now. Give it a few months." He looked at the clock in the kitchen. "We need to get back to your place so I can get some sleep before my next job. I can't seem to sleep at my own place anymore. It isn't right."

Sakura's heart was just shattering. She mistrusted him and he was here proposing to her anyway? (Well, in the least romantic way ever, with a non traditional ring, but was any of that surprising in the least?)

"Wait, I think we need to talk about some things first. . ."

He turned and looked at her, now he _was _smiling. "What's there to talk about? I wasn't cheating, you were jealous, and I need to get sleep. I've been awake for 50 hours. I'm going to pass out again in another few minutes."

"Jealous!" She was grabbing her keys as she huffed, but she didn't like the implication that she had thrown a hissy fit at him in the hallway twenty minutes ago just because of something so simple as mere jealousy! "I was indignant, maybe. And I suppose if you want to think that my constant fantasies about boiling you in oil was a part of. . . _oh would you stop laughing_!"

It was a sudden, rusty noise that grated out of his throat. Sakura locked the door behind her to Naruto's apartment and dropped the key in the mailbox for when Hinata and Naruto got back from dinner. They had figured Sakura and Gaara needed some time alone. They walked to his car, Gaara leaning on her when he needed to so as to remain upright. He folded into the passenger seat and handed Sakura his keys.

"Tell me, were you going to break up with me if I _had _been cheating on you?" He didn't need to ask her to be honest. This was the million dollar question.

Sakura searched her heart for the answer, but already knew it. "No. I would have beat you to a pulp, probably made that girl's life a misery, and driven myself mad in the process. . . but I can't let you go. I think I've developed a rather unhealthy attachment to you."

That's it. She had probably freaked him out. He would bolt as soon as he was no longer a narcoleptic. Men and commitment.

"Good."

"What!"

"A year from today. I'd prefer we go see a judge, but I suppose you want a church or something." His voice was fading out.

This was too much. She started up the car while she continued to argue with the nearly sleeping form of her boyfriend. "You had better not be referring to our wedding. I don't think I gave you an answer yet. You're pretty cocky for a guy who almost just got a fist in his eye about half an hour ago."

Before she could put the car in reverse, Gaara surged up and grabbed her arm, forcing her to look at him. That strange intensity was in his eyes and it scared her a little. He would probably always have moments that frightened her, but the grip he had on her arm wasn't painful even if it was tight. Gaara may look threatening, but she knew he would never hurt her.

"I would _never_ cheat on you." The insecurity, the need to hear reassuring words, it all wrote itself out in his tensed form. But before she could get any out, he went limp again, curling over near the window.

Sakura was backing out of the parking space when she heard one last sleepy sentence from her boyfriend and (probable) fiancé.

"One year from today, and nothing in pink."

She smiled to herself and looked over at the emerald sitting on her finger. "We'll see about that."

It was love, she knew that. But there was something desperate to it too, some need each had for the other. Sakura wasn't sure when it had gotten to the point where she couldn't imagine Gaara _not _beingin her life, but it had happened along the way. It wasn't going to be fun sometimes, but that's the way all relationships were. If it was all peaches and cream then she wouldn't trust it.

A fairy princess and a demon, who would have thought. Then again, the princess had some demon in her too and the demon showed a princely side every now and then. Well, rarely.

Some year it had been.

She would have a pink wedding yet, no matter what he said, just to spite him.


	8. 8 LAST

I swatted at the plot bunny when it nibbled. But then it got vicious and opened up a vein so you all get to see the last of the last. This is the exception that proves the rule and after this there is no more fanfiction, I swear.

Many addicts have made similar statements. We'll see how long I last. I say the same thing every time I binge drink.

I'm trying to keep it T. Did I succeed?

All my little vignettes. How odd they are. How unedited they are.

Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Kishimoto and his merry band of corporate execs. Oddly enough, the plot and setting come from my own brain. Scared yet?

* * *

Gaara had no idea tassels could move that way. Obviously Naruto did because he was watching the show with the delight of a connoisseur. Out of the corner of one eye Gaara saw Lee trying to look and keep himself from looking at the very same time. That conflict of interest was only so humorous and Gaara quickly lost interest. It wasn't that he was entirely uninvolved in what was going on around him, but he saw provocative sights on a nightly basis while working clubs and bars so how this was special escaped him. This was his bachelor party. He should show some enthusiasm for Naruto's sake, since he had gone to all the trouble of planning it.

After months of convincing Sakura to accept the engagement, a few more to get her to fix on a date, and then a last few of planning and stressing they were mere days away from the actual ceremony. Gaara was feeling oddly mellow, (with only that ulcerous ache that came from the prospect of seeing his father on the big day) and more looking forward to having full access to his blushing bride seeing as they would only merge their respective living situations after the nuptials.

Actually, Sakura was on his mind in general at the moment because he would have thought she would put up more of a fight about Naruto lascivious plans for Gaara's bachelor party. She had to know that nearly naked (perhaps even naked) and beautiful women would be involved. As a rule Sakura didn't seem to enjoy Gaara pursuing those kinds of visual stimuli seeing as he got it for free at work, (and at home). Yet again he replayed their conversation in his mind as he looked for a clue to why he felt troubled.

* * *

"So I heard Naruto is taking you out with the guys tomorrow night." She was sorting through what needed to go to the dry cleaners that week while Gaara flipped through cable channels with epileptic fit inducing speed.

"Yes."

"So. . . that means you're having a bachelor party then? Tomorrow?"

What was he supposed to say? Uzumaki had insisted. "Yes."

"Ah." She put aside something else for cleaning and then paused again. "It's perfectly ok, you know."

Why in the world would she say that? No matter. There was a metal hour coming up on one of the music video channels. That might be worth watching. "I suppose."

"I mean, it wasn't your idea. And Naruto can be so forceful sometimes. Overbearing even."

Had she lost it? Gaara heard the opening chords for an old Metallica song and his eyes flicked over to the screen and then back to his fiancé.

"Everyone does it. I'm not going to ask you about it later, or anything like that." She folded the same shirt twice before putting it in the pile with the rest. "Just so you know."

"I didn't think you would." He got up from the couch and wrapped his arms around her from behind.

She picked up a particularly complicated shirt with snaps on it, crisscrossing patterns of tears and a zipper on the sleeve. Obviously his. "Does this go in with the rest?"

Heck if he knew.

* * *

From the way she had made a point of talking to him about it, he could have sworn this titillating evening was not among the things she would possibly approve of. She had a habit of talking out loud to herself when she was troubled or upset, after all, and that little bout of oddness was characteristic of one of her little episodes.

Gaara looked over. Naruto had a shiny pink bra on his head. Best not to ask questions. A nurse in white vinyl shimmied down the catwalk and Gaara's eyes communicated interest to Gaara's body while Gaara's brain continued to process on an entirely different level.

If she was working out something she was troubled with, then why would she lie to him? That wasn't he style at all. This would be a stupid thing to lie to him about if she had reservations. All she would have to do would be to tell him and they could have had a night at home. Was she worried that he would compare her to these women? She knew better than to worry about something like that. She wasn't insecure about her appearance, for the most part, and he ego wasn't lacking. There was something else bothering her and the bachelor party just reminded her.

Did it have something to do with the wedding? He doubted that since every last detail had been planned, and she had gloried in it. Sakura was a detail kind of person and she had been in her element when she planned the wedding with her mother, Temari, and a legion of friends and professionals that Gaara wasn't even going to begin to remember when they had to write thank you cards by the ton.

The wording had been odd, for one thing. "Perfectly natural"? And "overbearing" is a word that had never come in conjunction with Naruto when she talked about him. Though she had said it about Ino a few. . .

It was realization like lightening in his head. A crash of cymbals in his brain.

"I need to go." He had to repeat it as well as tap Naruto on the shoulder to get his attention. He figured he owed at least that much courtesy to his host. (Sakura had been coaching him on common civility for over a year now.)

"Bathroom's that way!" Naruto yelled over the pounding techno beats. "But if you. . ."

"Goodbye." Gaara moved towards the exit, grabbing his coat on the way and gladly seeking fresh air where the smell of sweat and stale cigarettes weren't tempting him to bum a smoke for that sweet addictive buzz he missed so much.

Naruto would probably come after him in a few minutes so he would have to move fast. He needed to cover a lot of ground tonight. There were only so many male strip clubs, after all.

* * *

It was harder than he thought to begin his systematic search. It was true there were only a few clubs, but he had come in a cab with Naruto and the others as they fully expected to be slurringly drunk before midnight hit. No car. Cabs were expensive so he would have to choose his locations carefully. One ripped phone book page later he had addresses but no leads.

Gaara was well connected in the club world with security personnel but the red light districts always mystified him. None of his regular work came from there, and it was often the bouncers were less than reputable people themselves. They didn't do the mercenary club circuit, they were on a circuit all their own. In addition, the people who did security at _male_ strip clubs were a different sort of security man. They were more likely to look pretty, for one thing, so as not to frighten off prospective customers, male or female. Beyond that, Gaara couldn't think of a single person he had worked with who had worked the door of a male strip club. He didn't relish this chore.

Naturally the first strip club was the most embarrassing. It was lit up like nothing else he had ever seen with huge fake neon palm trees and a pink "Copacabana" blinking in rhythm to some unheard beat. He asked the man out front if anyone with pink hair had gone inside recently. The man was cagey, oddly playful, and finally Gaara had enough and just paid the cover and marched in.

He marched right out less than a minute later.

He crossed "Copacabana" off the list. This time he paid closer attention to ads on the page. It wouldn't do to walk into anymore gay strip clubs. The bouncer winked at him as he stalked past and Gaara set his lips into a determined line. He would find his fiancé come hell or high water tonight.

It wasn't that he was worried about her. No, not really. But he was troubled enough by the idea of her feeling unsatisfied with him. Being a short pasty goth boy had never been a point of angsty contention with him, but the idea that Sakura would have the opportunity to view many men considered to be attractive only drilled into his brain a cold feeling of insecure rage. At least this was something active to do, rather than sitting and wondering for the rest of the night while women he wasn't remotely interested in tried to tempt him while being entirely uninterested in him as well.

There were a few more in close radius to the first club but their either proved to be unviable as a similar orientation to the first or unsuccessful in that no pink haired women passed through their doors.

A proposition and two job offers later. . .

Gaara was something close to flying off the handle. There were three clubs left on the list and he had had to cab across town to find the secondary red light district. He should have guessed that they'd be in the more posh part of the city, knowing Ino and her tastes, but Gaara wasn't exactly thinking clearly.

There was a slight wheeze to his breathing as he tried to hold his anger in check.

"I'm looking for her." He told the bouncer, a large man with sunglasses on. Sunglasses at night, what a stupid affectation. The picture he held up would have to explain everything as he was so enraged he couldn't form proper sentences anymore. The picture was a bit tattered, having been in his wallet for so long, and wasn't particularly good seeing as it was really half of a picture he had taken at the beach. Sakura was taking off her sunglasses and about to ask him a question. Between the odd "o" of her mouth and the candid and poorly chosen angle, it probably seemed to the man that Gaara was a stalker.

"Get out of here, man."

"Is she here?"

"Don't make me rough you up, buddy."

Gaara, not one to be threatened, got in close with a speed and strength that probably scared the much bigger man. He was not in the mood for games. "Just tell me, is she here or not, and I'll leave right now."

"Yes, yes, ok!" An arm behind the back could hurt a surprising amount if you twisted it just right. And wrists were so delicate.

"Is that yes, you'll answer me, or yes she's here?" Gaara gave a fearfully awful smile that the man luckily couldn't see.

"She's here! She's here!"

And just like that Gaara disappeared. Well, didn't disappear so much as move behind the building as the man collected himself. With victory in sight, Gaara forced his fast beating heart to calm down. It was such a rush, those little explosions of temper, but he needed to be rational now. Going in through the front door was no longer an option, as the man would only call the cops on him.

The clang of bottles and the rustle of plastic alerted Gaara to the dumpster he was standing near. The open kitchen door was too convenient to refuse. There was steam and people yelling and bodies moving everywhere. Gaara noted the servers and what they wore. Luckily it was all black, probably to keep them unnoticeable as opposed to the men on stage. He shed his coat in a corner and moved with purposeful strides towards the door to the outside.

A blast of sound nearly had him covering his ears. It had been muffled thumps in the kitchen but now it was retro remixed pop in full throttle attempting to explode his eardrums. Lights blazed and Gaara closed his eyes to reorient himself. He was nearly run over by a server with a tray coming out of the kitchen at full tilt. Time to get moving.

One woman tried to flag him down to take an order but he ignored her, despite some vile language she used in his direction. So much for it being a "ladies' club". There was a pause in the music at which point he made the fatal error of looking up from the crowd of women and up at the stage instead.

Very few men he knew looked like that. Kankuro had a stockier build, but essentially looked like a clone of their father, with enough muscle to be threatening but tended towards a bit of fat. Naruto was lean, and Lee was almost outright skinny like Gaara was but both of them were considerably taller. That day at the beach with Sakura's friends had been particularly informative in the most painful way possible. The men on stage looked _nothing_ like the typically fit men that Gaara worked with as bouncers. These men looked like they hit the gym not as a way to stay fit but as a hobby to build specific muscles. There was _posing _and _flexing_ involved as one man with mismatched eyes winked at a crowd of screaming fans. He seemed to be a particular favorite.

This would live on in Gaara's nightmares, surely.

A wolf whistle from somewhere brought Gaara back to his senses and he continued to scan the crowd. Finally he spotted her, not Sakura, but Ino. She was screaming at a man in a green thong and waving a bill of some type. Near her was Tenten. His eyes panned over to find Sakura trying to drag Hinata from her seat and shove a bill into the shy girl's hand at the same time.

He had hoped to find her looking bored and hunched in a corner with her drink, actually, but trust his ever boisterous fiancé to get into the spirit of things. Unconsciously, he found himself fingering his bicep. He resisted the urge to slap himself. Now was not the time to fall into something like self conscious pity.

Hinata had maneuvered she and Sakura around the stage and they appeared to be heading for the side and possibly the bathrooms if he was lucky. Good little Hinata, trying to buy time with one an infamous communal trip to the ladies' room. Sakura probably wasn't buying it, but it opened up a rather good opportunity for Gaara. There was no more room for shame tonight. After what he had been through, storming a girls' bathroom was nothing.

It seemed like a good idea until he walked in, anyway. Some women mumbled to one another as they passed him and Gaara became conscious of the fact that he probably only had as long as it took for them to report a man in the girls' room before he was dragged out of this place. Sakura's somewhat slurred voice was coming from one stall and he assumed Hinata was in another. Two women checking their makeup at the mirror gave him dirty looks until he sneered at them and effectively chased them out.

In the now empty bathroom he could clearly hear Sakura's monologue.

". . . and did you see that one with the different color eyes? I don't know if I'm twisted now, but I had to see in my mind what he'd look like with eyeliner."

"Ah." Hinata answered.

"It's like I'm trying to turn every guy I see into Gaara. Am I sick or what?"

"Well—"

"You aren't supposed to answer that, Hinata."

"Yes, I—"

Gaara heard masculine voices coming from outside, but really he had heard all he needed to anyway. The loss of his coat was sad but needful for the evening and he shimmied through the small window and dropped to the alley outside with a jarring impact to his feet. That was going to smart later.

Limping, he made tracks to the street where he could catch a cab back home. Home, in this case, was Sakura's apartment. He had boxes there already, clothes, makeup—all the essentials. There was still that thrilling wisp of anger pumping a vein on the side of his head, but the beast had been calmed by Sakura's drunken words in the bathroom.

It wasn't that he was being compared to other men, it was that other men were being compared to him, and found lacking. You couldn't buy peace of mind like that.

* * *

"Mmm. You're home." Sakura seemed surprised, or as surprised as someone could be who had just come down from a hard booze buzz.

"Yes." Gaara was watching informercials, being the only thing on at this time in the morning. He would have preferred an "off the air" signal but informercials had apparently become the "off the air" signal of the post modern age. Even static might have been an improvement, honestly.

"Did you have a good time?"

". . ."

Sakura forged ahead in the conversation. "Well, I had a good time tonight. Going out with the girls is nice once in a while." She crashed on the couch beside him in a heavy manner uncharacteristic of her. She must really have been tired. Gaara was nocturnal, so this was par for the course for him. "But this is still the best part of the evening, by far."

Allowing some fondness to shine through, in light of the upbeat turn of this strange evening, he wrapped an arm around his already lightly dozing fiancé and tuned out the drone of someone trying to sell a salad spinner.


End file.
